Clara and Emily : Chance Meeting
by ClaraAndMeAIT
Summary: I fancied doing a crossover with Clara Oswald and Emily Fitch so here it is. Clara goes home from a bar in London and ends up talking to a stranger... It is Clara centric, from her point of view, lots of comedy moments and dialogue. Set between Sleep No More and Face the Raven for Clara and post Skins:Fire for Emily. I have had so much fun writing this, hope it is reflected! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Clara sat at the bar, dragging out the last sips of her gin and tonic before she decided to call it a night. She'd enjoyed her evening work drinks, but was becoming disinterested with the conversation and wanted to indulge in her own company.

Clara made an excuse to leave, saying some polite goodbyes, took her coat with her and walked out into the cold February evening.

She was at the school's local pub, ending up in there most Friday nights after work if she wasn't seeing the Doctor. Tonight she just wasn't feeling it, maybe the music was a notch too loud or something. She walked down back streets from Shoreditch towards Liverpool Street station, a faint hint of rain and chill in the air.

She turned into Finsbury Avenue Gardens, looking at the bright criss crossed strip lights in the floor glowing a fluorescent bright purple. Clara liked this place at night, the lights were almost blinding in the expanse of black around her. She looked up at the imposing buildings above, framing the faint stars in the orangey black sky.

She sat on one of the benches around the outside of the square and watched the lights phase from purple to blue very slowly, looking over at the stream of people walking briskly towards the station, interrupting the lights.

She got her phone out of her back pocket and idly browsed Facebook, scrolling through pictures of people's children, Friday nights in and holidays away. A few memes. Some pictures of cats. Nothing interesting. The lights were now bright green, the change of colour too slow to notice.

She stood up, still looking at her phone and turned towards Broadgate Circus. As she did she bumped heavily into someone, knocking a bag down onto the floor and scattering numerous items around. Clara dropped her phone to the floor, it landed on top of the misplaced bag and clattered to the ground amongst the belongings.

"For fuck's sake!" shouted the stranger angrily. It was a woman about a similar age to her, brown hair, smoking a cigarette. "Do you not look where you are going?"

"I'm so sorry," said Clara, unconsciously crouching down to help the woman collect her things. "Let me help you." Clara picked up her phone and put it into the left pocket of her dark blue trench coat, gathering up a few stray belongings to pass over.

"No, it's fine," she said, "just the way my fucking day is going." The stranger knelt down, putting her cigarette between her lips and filled up her bag, pausing to take a breath before standing.

Clara held out what she had in her hands, some mascara, lipstick, a pen and a compact mirror.

"Thanks," she said, taking the items and stashing them into the yellow leather bag. She looked upset, wiping the corner of her eye with the end of her sleeve, removing the cigarette from her mouth.

"Look, I'm sorry, it's my fault, I should really look where I am going," she smiled, "instead of looking at pictures of cats on Facebook."

"Yeah," the stranger let out a small laugh fighting back tears. She flicked ash from the top of the cigarette to the floor.

"Well, I'm going to-" Clara started to head towards the station.

"I'm late so," the stranger said, walking in the opposite direction away from her.

Clara looked back to see her hurrying across the square in the direction she had come from. She walked slowly towards Liverpool Street, looking up at Broadgate Circus illuminated in the building lights.

She felt her phone vibrate in her front left jacket pocket. Odd, she thought, her phone didn't usually vibrate.

She pulled it out, noticing it was a white iPhone, a large crack on the right hand side of the screen, a battered screen protector hanging off the bottom two edge. This was not hers. She had a pristine white Galaxy, with the Doctor's special SIM card in it.

"No no no," she said in resigned realisation. She turned around, jogging slightly to see if she could catch up with the stranger, but she was gone.

Clara looked down at the phone, catching the incoming WhatsApp message on the screen before it faded to black. She pressed the home button and the message popped up underneath the time and date. It was 19.15, on Friday 19th February. The wallpaper on the back was a black and white picture of a bridge, it looked American.

The notification was from someone called Will.

Will Fenchurch: Where are u babes? X

There was no was to reply as Clara didn't know the unlock code, glad that she had the same thing on her phone. She weighed up her options, turning the phone top to bottom in her hand subconsciously.

Should she wait here and see if the stranger returned? It was unlikely she'd come back, and it was beginning to get too cold to just sit around. No, she'd go home, she could use her computer to find her, there was a name she could search. It seemed simple enough. She thought back to the time when she sat on the balcony of the Sky Bar in St Paul's and managed to locate all those people on the 65th floor of the Shard. It was all about the people. She smiled to herself and sighed before putting the phone in her bag and heading off in the direction of the station.

...

Clara arrived home and threw her keys down on the side, they clinked against the side of the porcelain change pot. She fixed herself a small glass of red wine in the kitchen, changed out of her teacher clothes and sat on the sofa. She retrieved the lost phone from her bag and pressed the home button again. The notification now said 'Three new WhatsApp messages from two chats.' There was no other information to glean.

She turned on her laptop, sitting cross legged on the sofa, sipping the wine intermittently. She challenged herself to see how long it would take to find the woman. Ten minutes? Five minutes? She went with seven, mentally making a note of the time. 20.21.

If the Doctor was here she could have got him to go back in time and follow the woman, but, grateful for the night off she was going to have to do this the hard way. She chuckled to herself, realising how stupid it was to see time travel as the easy option.

"Right then," she said to herself but directed at the laptop. "Let's find you."

She went onto her Facebook and searched for 'Will Fenchurch' finding twenty matches. There were five people in London with that name, so she systematically worked through the profiles. The first two she looked at were a 13 year old boy and a 72 year old man, she immediately ruled them out mainly due to the word 'babes'. She hated it when the girls at school used it.

The third profile was blank, nothing on it apart from a generic photo and minimal details.

The fourth profile was the one she needed. She saw a picture of the stranger from about one hour ago tagged in a gallery in Hoxton, she knew it, but had never been. The photo was her with four other people, including a person she presumed was 'Will' based on the profile picture, they looked at the camera smiling, each holding a glass of champagne. The update with the picture said 'First exhibition! So proud! Love these guys!' tagging in four girls with him. She worked through the tags, eventually finding the profile she needed: Emily Fitch.

She looked at the time. 20.29. Eight minutes.

"I am losing my touch," she said to herself, disappointed, shaking her head.

Clara went back to Will's profile, sending him a message.

: Hi Will, I accidentally picked up your friend Emily's phone earlier, and think she might have mine. Send me a message and I can return it to her. Thanks Clara

She was about to hit send when the phone rang, it came up as Will. There was an option to slide to answer.

"Or I could have just rung it," she said resigned, realising that would have been a much easier option. She pressed send anyway and answered the phone.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hello?" said Clara for a second time when she got no answer. She could hear pounding electronic music in the background.

"It's answered," said a muffled male voice. There was a thudding crackling sound through the speaker which was loud enough to make Clara take the phone away from her ear momentarily.

"Hang on," came a faint female voice, "I just need to speak to some woman about my fucking phone," the volume increased before the voice shouted, "Hello?" The music was loud still but began to fade into the distance.

"Hi, yes, hello," Clara said, nervously, stuttering her words.

"Are you the woman from earlier?" the voice came.

"If you mean the woman who knocked all your things on the ground and kinda accidentally stole your phone, then yes, that's me-"

"Yes, it's her," the voice muffled, "she's got it, thank fuck for that," she said.

"Do you have mine?" asked Clara.

"Yes, your doctor keeps on ringing you, had to turn it off."

"Yeah... he does that," Clara laughed, breathing a sigh of relief her own phone hadn't been lost.

"Whatever, look, I need my phone back, yeah" said the stranger, "but I have to get back to what I'm doing."

"So how do we-" Clara started.

"Umm," the stranger paused, "what's your code?" the voice muffled over ánd the music volume increased slightly, "can I borrow that pen? Thanks."

"Sorry?" Clara was confused.

"Your lock code, for your phone," she said, "I'll send myself a message."

"Oh I see," Clara said, initially reluctant but then realising that was probably the best idea, "it's 4452... What's yours?"

"Ok, got it, mine's 0521," the stranger said. "I have to go," the thumping music got louder and then the line disconnected. Clara took the phone from her ear and stared at it, watching the screen fade to black. She set it down on the coffee table debating in her head what to do.

Clara's curiosity was piqued, she had an overwhelming urge to look through the phone, just because she could. Nobody would ever have to know. She picked the handset up, held it in her hand, going to type the number before thinking better of it. She did, however, notice the phone was desperately low on battery, remembering that she had similar cable for her iPod she dug out the charger from a cabinet on the living room and connected it just in case.

A couple of hours later, as she was about to head off to bed, a message came through from a number she recognised as her own.

: Are you free tomorrow to give my phone back?

Clara didn't have any set plans but couldn't guarantee the Doctor would not rock up and sweep her away for a day or a week at a time. Not that it mattered, he was getting much better at dropping her off.

She typed in the lock code on the phone and it sprung to life. She tapped on the message and typed a reply.

: Hi, yes I am...

She didn't want to sound like she was doing nothing, so changed it.

: Hi, not doing anything I can't rearrange, where would you like to meet?

Clara decided to let her choose as it was her fault for not watching where she was going earlier. The phone vibrated.

: Where are you coming from?

: I'm in Clapham, how about you?

: Whitechapel heading to Spitalfields during the day. Can you meet me there?

: Yes, I know it, what time would you like to meet?

: After 12pm OK? Ring me when you get there and I can tell you where we are.

: Yes, of course, thank you for not stealing my phone!

: That doctor ring you like 20 times, btw.

: It's ok, he can wait, just turn the phone off and ignore him, that's what I do.

: Bye, see you tomorrow.

Clara put the phone down, but picked it up again swiftly to browse harmlessly through the photos.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Clara left her flat and headed into central London, deciding to forgoe her planned cleaning day. There was no sign of the Doctor, she figured if he really wanted her he'd just turn up in her flat and surprise her in the middle of the night. Like he'd done a few weeks ago which caused her to have a small heart attack.

Over the course of the morning she had avoided temptation to look more closely at the phone, it now had several messages, emails and notifications. She'd browsed through the photos, but stopped when she felt it getting weird. It seemed to be various photos of landscapes and objects interspersed with occasional nights out drinking with other people. All she knew was her name was Emily.

She had debated what to wear for an hour, settling on a red and black checked shirt, black jeans, black trainers and her dark green coat. Perfect for a Saturday morning, browsing around the market. She was debating what to do after the meeting, maybe a stroll to the river, Borough Market or Oxford Street... somewhere away from Shoreditch though, she didn't want to run into any of her kids or, even worse, their parents.

She took the Northern Line to Moorgate and walked towards Liverpool Street, noticing the different crowds on the tube than during the week, lots more kids, pushchairs and people wearing denim.

She cut through Finsbury Circus, covered in works for Crossrail these days, towards Liverpool Street, stopping off for a coffee on the way. It was 1pm, she sat in the window of a Starbucks near the station debating what to do. She got the phone out, typed in the code and rang her number. After about a minute it answered.

"Hello?" came the female voice. There was faint laughter in the background, accompanied by a dull thud and a muffled, "shh!"

"Oh hello, it's Clara, you know, umm, the woman who accidentally stole your phone last night. You said to give you a call when I was at here," she said awkwardly, "so hence, you know, calling you." The English teacher in her practically collapsed at her use of fillers.

"Oh yes, hi," the voice at the end of the phone said, "and where are you?"

"At Spitalfields, well, near there. You said to call you after 12."

"Did I? I got wasted last night," said the voice, "still at home. Can you give me an hour?"

"Yes, of course, where should I meet you?" Clara said.

"Do you know the All Saints on the corner?"

Clara knew exactly where she meant, she had bought her favourite black leather trench coat from there six months ago at great expense. "I think so," she lied.

"Ok, I'll see you there in an hour."

"Yes, I will see you then," Clara said.

"Bye." The phone cut off. It was 1.15pm now. Clara had an hour to kill.

Clara flipped the phone end to end in her hands and then replaced it into her bag. She didn't rush to finish her coffee, using the time to people watch out of the window. She flipped through a discarded copy of the previous night's Evening Standard.

After twenty minutes she decided to have a browse around the market, looking at the various clothes, accessories, vintage furniture and patisseries it was near enough 2pm, so she crossed Commercial Street to wait. She fought off the urge to go inside.

About ten minutes later, she heard someone calling her name.

"Hey, Miss Oswald!" It was Courtney Woods and five of her friends all holding various shopping bags. She sighed inwardly. They started laughing.

"Hello Courtney," she said, trying not to display her annoyance, "how are you today?"

"We're out shopping, Miss," said Courtney, she smiled widely.

"I can see that, Courtney," she said sarcastically, knowing she had to engage with them or face them being unruly for the next couple of weeks, "have you bought anything nice?" This was awkward to the point of being painful.

"Just some clothes, Miss, and some makeup, and some shoes." She fished a dark green hat out of the bag and put it on. "What do you think, Miss?"

Clara spied the stranger out of the corner of her eye, deciding to use her as a way to get away. She was wearing dark blue jeans, dirty blue cons and an oversized dark purple knitted jumper. She was carrying the yellow bag she'd seen yesterday. "I like it," she lied said slightly distracted, "it really brings out the colour of your eyes."

"I told you!" Courtney exclaimed to her friends with a look of pride. "Miss Oswald likes it Tee!" she said to a friend she didn't recognise from Coal Hill, "I don't care what you think. What are you doing here Miss?"

"I am...' she paused, "meeting a friend of mine I haven't seen since I went to university." She was deliberately vague, no way was she giving any details of her life to the kids. Clara made to walk towards where the stranger was standing and caught her eye. Courtney rummaged inside her bag and pulled out a scarf.

"Do you think this scarf goes with this hat, Miss?" It was quite clear these kids weren't going anywhere. The stranger began walking towards her.

"Hang on, Courtney," she said. "Hello you!" she said brightly. Clara went in to hug the stranger against her protestations saying under her breath quickly, "please please help me, can you play along so I can lose these kids otherwise they will follow me all day."

Clara pulled away from the hug to see Courtney had put the scarf on and was mid twirl encircled by her friends. "Abbie says they don't go but I think they do, what do you think, Miss?"

Clara looked at her, "I think they look excellent together, what do you think?" she aimed at the stranger.

"I... agree," she said, confused.

Courtney looked angrily to one of her friends and kissed her teeth loudly. "Told you you were wrong." She spun to look at Clara smiling, "thanks Miss and-"

"I need to go Courtney, I see enough of you lot during the week, don't I?" She hoped they would get the hint.

"But Miss-"

"Our friends are waiting for us, we need to go," the stranger said, to Clara.

"Courtney... and friends... I will see you on Monday, enjoy your weekend."

"You too, Miss," Courtney said. "Glad to see you are going out enjoying yourself after what happened to Mr Pink."

"What?" said Clara, taken aback. "Go on, go!" she snapped, waving them away. "Or... extra homework next Friday!" Clara grabbed the stranger by the arm and walked quickly in the opposite direction to the group. "We need to get as far away from that," she pointed with her thumb behind her, "as possible... right now."

"Ok..."

"Bye, Miss!" Courtney shouted down the road.

She crossed the road back into the market where it was busy, stopping to look behind. The group were walking towards Shoreditch High Street.

"Oh, thank god for that," Clara leant against the grey granite entrance gates, "I'd have still been there on Monday morning! That never gets any easier. Thank you," she smiled. "I suppose I should introduce myself, I'm Clara," she held out her hand.

"Emily," the stranger said, shaking Clara's outstretched hand with her own. "Do you have my phone?"

"Oh yes, yes I do," Clara said, getting the handset out and passing it to her, "here you go."

"I can't believe I almost lost this," Emily said, putting it in her back pocket, "has some really important photos on there." She retrieved Clara's phone out of her own bag offering it out, but snatched it back before Clara got hold of it.

"Am I allowed it back or...?" Clara said, confused.

"Why is Jane Austen texting you..." she held out the screen towards Clara, "this?"

Clara couldn't help but laugh out loud as she read the text message and blushed bright red. It was a picture message of Jane standing next to an oil painting of them both, pointing and grinning. Jane was on the left of the painting, Clara was on the right with a moustache and a goatee beard drawn on in black paint. The caption read, 'Sense and Insensibility.'

"That," she thought of an appropriate answer, "that is... a very long story."

"Are you for fucking real?" said Emily, incredulous.

"It's kind of a thing we do," said Clara, trailing off, looking away. "Totally explainable, but a very very long story."

"You are completely mental, that is the only explanation," Emily said, her facial expressions displaying a mixture of curious distain.

"So are you going to give me my phone back or..?" Clara said, slightly impatiently.

"And what were you doing apparently on the moon with that girl with the hat?" Emily said, more interested.

"Oh yeah... I'd forgotten about that," she smiled to herself. "That, again, is a very long story," Clara sighed, "I don't have to explain myself to you, a complete stranger."

"No you don't," she said, smiling. "But you can... if only to say thank you for lying to that girl."

"Lying? About what?" Clara asked.

"The hat and the scarf," Emily laughed, "her friend was right, no way did they go. Isn't there some sort of teacher code that says you don't lie to children?"

"Yes there is," Clara nodded, laughing, "unless that child is the most annoying or disruptive in the school... or you are an exceptionally good liar."

'And which applies?" Emily asked, intrigued now.

"Both," she said, with a glint in her eye.

Emily held out Clara's phone to her. "You can have this back," she tugged it back slightly as Clara got hold of it, "on one condition."

"And that is?" She wrestled this phone free of Emily's grasp.

"I've had a really shit couple of days and need a distraction, fancy telling me that Jane Austen story over a drink?"

Clara thought for a minute, she had nothing better to do, and she felt bad. "Sure," she said. "Coffee or drink drink?"

"You're buying, I don't mind, the least you can do," Emily said dismissively.

"Ok then," Clara said, thinking where to go, "there's a bar around the corner, we can try there?" She walked towards the market.

"Can I just make a phone call?" Emily said, "I just need to let someone know what I'm doing. Just in case you turn out to be a serial killer."

"Yes, yes, of course, go ahead," Clara said. She continued walking.

Emily found her phone, tapped it a few times and then put it to her ear. "Hi, it's me," she said before pausing, "yes I've got it," she looked at Clara. "Yes," she smiled, turning around and walking away slowly out of Clara's earshot.

Clara looked at her own phone, the Doctor had called her 45 times. She ignored it, there were a couple of read messages from her dad, that picture message from Jane and the messages Emily had sent her.

Emily walked back, "I'll call you when I'm done, yeah?" She laughed. "Bye." She walked back to Clara, "so where are you taking me?"

"Do you know BE 1?" Clara said as they walked.

"Yes," said Emily, nodding. "Got chucked out of there a couple of years ago."

"For what?"

"I don't actually remember, off my face on pills probably, wasn't a great time for me personally."

"I see," Clara said, not wanting to pry further. They approached the blue hoarding of the bar

"You mind if I smoke?" said Emily, taking out a packet of ten Marlboro menthols, offering one to Clara from the box.

"No thanks, I don't smoke, but go ahead," she smiled.

Emily took a lighter from her pocket which didn't spark up after two goes, she shook it a few times and lit the cigarette off the small flame once it got going, shielding it from the breeze.

'I'm trying to give up," she said, taking a large breath in, turning her head away to blow the exhaled smoke into the wind and not into Clara's face. "So where are you from? That's not a London accent you have is it?" Emily asked, holding the cigarette up to her mouth to take another drag.

"No it's not," Clara agreed, "I'm from Blackpool originally, about as northern as they come, but I've lived here for about six or seven years... how about you?"

"Bristol."

"I went to Bristol fairly recently," Clara said.

"Oh yeah?" Emily took a large drag of the cigarette.

"A couple of years ago, the Doctor-"

"The bloke that keeps calling you?"

"Yeah, he was supposed to drop me off in London but only got me as far as Bristol."

"What part?"

"Some estate, I can't remember the name, but his TA... car, his car broke down and I had to help him fix it."

"You don't strike me as a mechanic..." Emily laughed.

"I'm not, I met a guy called Rigsy who was on community service and got him to help me."

"All of your friends sound like drug dealers," Emily said, slightly under her breath, taking another drag.

"I suppose they do, don't they!" she realised. "Ever been to Blackpool?"

Emily shook her head, exhaling a plume of smoke. "Isn't it all hen parties and illuminations and stuff? And a poor man's Eiffel Tower?"

"Mainly, yes," she found it hard to disagree, "hence why my parents moved down here."

Emily finished her cigarette and threw it down inside a nearby drain. "Thanks for that," she said.

Clara pushed the door and walked in towards the bar. "So... Emily, what can I get you?" Emily picked up the cocktail menu and cast her eye over it.

"Amaretto and coke? Too early for cocktails." Emily said. "Still a bit drunk after last night."

"What can I get for you ladies?" said the bartender after a few seconds.

"Amaretto and coke and..." Clara looked down the wine list, "a glass of the Zinfandel for me."

He disappeared a little further along the bar and reappeared shortly with the two drinks. "Thanks," said Clara handing the bartender her card. He tapped it on the reader and handed it back to her. She hoped the next twenty minutes or so wouldn't be too awkward.

A couple had just left a table by the window behind them, Clara walked up to it and put her bag on the seat. She moved the two drinks onto the table, swapping them for the two empty glasses. She shrugged off her jacket and put it over the back of her chair.

Emily took a seat and then a sip of her drink, staring out of the window.

"So what brought you to London?" said Clara, trying to break the ice.

"I moved down here after my gap year," Emily said, "with my girlfriend and a friend from back home."

"Where did you go travelling?" Clara asked, interested.

"Goa, and then Mexico," she looked out of the window again.

"Nice," Clara said, impressed, "I have so many things I want to see, I always just end up going to different places. The Doctor takes me travelling all the time."

"Are you seeing him?" Emily asked, reading between the lines.

"What? No! He looks old enough to be my dad, coupled with the fact he looks like a magician. Maybe when he was younger when he used to wear fezzes and bowties, but not now. God no." Clara laughed. "All purely platonic."

"Your life is fucked up," Emily shook her head, "some old man takes you travelling. Sounds a bit creepy to me."

"I guess it does to an outsider, but he has taken me to some awesome places, and after Danny died he was really there for me," Clara said, looking at her wine as she swirled it around her glass.

"Who's Danny? Your brother? Boyfriend?" Emily fished for information.

"He was my boyfriend," Clara said, taking a sip of wine. "I was talking to him on the phone and he got hit by a car."

"I'm sorry," Emily said.

"Thank you, it's ok, the Doctor tried to help me save him, but it was too late. Do you remember when those clouds formed over the graveyards and rained?"

"What?" Emily said, perplexed.

"Never mind, it was then," Clara said, "I was a complete mess for weeks and the Doctor helped me through it." She smiled at Emily.

"So he's like a bereavement counsellor then?"

"Not really, but I guess so. He helped me get over it," said Clara, "he takes me to some amazing places."

"Like where?" Emily asked.

Clara blurred a few of the minor details. "We've been to a twenties dress up night on the Orient Express, an underwater city, a haunted mansion, a Viking reenactment, a Lunar training facility, Las Vegas by the way of a Communist submarine..."

"I wish I'd had someone like that to help me," Emily said, "to just escape and take my mind off stuff. Maybe you could give me his number?" she laughed.

"Unless you want an old Scottish man turning up in your bedroom at all hours I wouldn't advise it," Clara said, smirking.

"Old man turning up in your bedroom unannounced? That is just fucking weird, no thanks. You know, I can't work out if you are just crazy or making this stuff up," Emily looked at her closely, finishing her drink. She didn't make any movements to leave.

"What do you think?" Clara said.

"I think I want another drink, you still haven't told me about Jane Austen." Emily said. "I read all the messages, she seems like a right laugh."

"You won't believe me," Clara said, blushing.

"Maybe not, but I am enjoying the free drink," Emily said.

"Same again?" said Clara.


	3. Chapter 3

Clara returned with two more drinks and set them down on the table.

"I can't figure you out," said Emily, looking at her up and down, narrowing her eyes, "you seem perfectly normal, have a reputable job... but I cannot take anything you say seriously. What do you teach? I bet it's Geography or History."

"Do I really look like a History or a Geography teacher?" Clara said, surprised. "Try again."

"Creative writing?" Emily asked.

"Well, sort of... English."

"So are you doing that thing that teachers who think they are cool do to show they are," she made quotation marks with her fingers, "'down with the kids'? Hey, let's create a few memes or, tonight's homework, what would Jane Austen text someone she fancied if she were about today, LOL, YOLO, all of that shit?" Emily jested.

"Of course, that's exactly what I am doing," Clara said sarcastically drinking her wine nonchalantly, although thinking about it, it seemed as reasonable an explanation as any.

"I don't buy that at all," Emily said raising an eyebrow, "what's the truth?"

"Well," Clara took a long sip of wine, "my friend, the Doctor, he's a time traveller, we went back in time to the 1800s and met Jane Austen, one of my favourite writers, we play pranks on each other, we text each other from time to time, and..." she paused, a cheeky smile passing over her lips, "we have an occasional thing as she is an exceptionally good kisser."

Emily looked at Clara and sipped her drink through the straw, creasing her eyebrows. She tilted her head.

"What?" said Clara.

"Can you hear yourself? I mean, are you actually listening to what you are saying?" Emily said, slightly impatiently.

"You asked for the truth," said Clara, "whether you believe it s up to you."

"You are completely insane," said Emily.

"Or maybe," Clara lied, "one of the other teachers at my school dressed up as Jane Austen for a project we were doing and took it way way too far," Clara sighed, "especially since that night of the work do when I had a little bit too much wine and I woke up in her bed the next morning holding my shoe and a bottle of tequila." She still had no recollection of what happened that night to this day.

"We've all been there," Emily agreed, laughing to herself. "Now, that I can believe. Did you find the other one?"

"The other what?" Clara screwed up her face.

"The other shoe?"

"Oh yeah, I did, eventually. It was in the garden." Clara sipped her drink. "You do not leave Kurt Geigers in someone's house."

"I've been home without shoes more times than I can remember." Emily smiled at her, Clara hoped this had been a good enough explanation.

"Do you believe me now?" Clara asked, a grin covering her face.

"I guess," Emily said. "So this doctor, how did you meet him? How does someone like you meet a creepy old Scottish man who surprises you in your bedroom at all hours and then whisks you away travelling?"

"He was at the end of a computer helpline, he helped me find how to connect the wifi on my laptop a few years ago, and then he turned up..." she paused slightly, slowing down her words as she realised how this would sound, "he turned up at my front door."

"Isn't that breaking some sort of data protection rule? Sounds an awful lot like he was stalking you."

"I guess he was back then, he said I reminded him of someone he met years ago when he was younger, someone who looked identical to me in olden days London."

"Like a twin?" Emily asked, curious.

"I guess like a twin, there are lots of people out there that look like me," she skirted around the truth, all those copies of her throughout time and space would sound ridiculous.

"You know, I'm an identical twin, so there's always going to be someone that looks like me," Emily said.

"You're a twin?" Clara said, "how interesting. Do you two ever, like, pretend to be each other?"

"Not really, although..." Emily paused, "I did take her History AS for her, the makeup took me fucking ages." She pointed to the left side of her head saying as an aside, "she got hit on the head by a rock, needed stitches, left for dead in a wood during a camping trip."

"Is she OK?" Clara asked, slightly concerned.

"She's fine, that was years ago, like 2008 or 9!" She laughed.

"Sounds quite dramatic," said Clara, taking a sip of wine, looking at her, mentally calculating. "So that makes you, what, like 24, 25? You look a lot younger."

"25 in May," Emily said, "Why, how old are you?"

There were several answers to this question Clara could have gone with. "27," Clara sighed, lying to see if she could get away with it, she was 30 this year.

"I would have guessed same age as me... ish." Clara had judged it right, ish meant a bit older.

"Don't give me an-" Clara stopped herself. "So anyway, you were telling me about the accident...?"

"I guess it was quite dramatic, the whole couple of years were," Emily trailed off, lost in thought for a moment as she stirred her drink with the straw. "Wouldn't change a single day though."

"Does your sister live here?" Clara asked.

"No, she's still in Bristol, works with my mum in her Bridal boutique business, engaged to some non league football player," Emily said, "who is the biggest dick I've ever met."

"Why don't you like him?"

"For a start, he's just a compete prick, I don't know what she sees in him," Emily said, matter-of-factly. "Then I found out he trashed my scooter a few months ago, but Katie didn't fucking tell me until yesterday. Bitch."

"You ride?" said Clara, surprised.

"Well, I apparently don't any more thanks to that bell end..." Emily said, resigned, "I left it in Bristol so it wouldn't get nicked in London and then it gets joyrided into a lamp post. Like I said, he is a dick."

"What type of scooter?"

"It was only a shitty little second hand Vesta, bright orange, but it has, well it had, a lot of memories. I bought it for like £200 from a friend of a friend."

"The Doctor leant me a motorbike..." Clara said with a twinkle in her eye, "I say leant, I stole it from his garage and I conveniently forgot to give it back. He hasn't had a problem with it."

"I bet he hasn't," said Emily, "he still sounds like a creepy old man. Is it a nice bike?"

"A Triumph," Clara said, eyes glittering, "He did have a dark blue Vespa in there too, but what can I say, I know an expensive bike when I see one. So I borrowed it."

"You've got to be fucking kidding, that is a sexy bike," Emily exclaimed, "what did he ask you for in return?"

"Nothing," said Clara, confused.

"Do you pay for your trips? I've seen those adverts on TV, teachers aren't exactly minted are they?"

"No, they are not," laughed Clara.

"So he takes you away for free, gives you a motorbike for free... so you're an escort?" Emily asked, serious.

"No! Do I look like an escort?!" Clara shouted, a little louder than she intended. A couple of people turned around from nearby tables. She sipped the last mouthful of her wine, blushing.

"Right now," Emily leaned away from the table and looked at her clothing, "I'd say not. But you can never tell." Emily's eyes betrayed that she was joking."

"I," Clara said, lowering her voice, "am 100% completely not an escort, I'm a school teacher who likes to travel with an older man. Nothing more or less than that." She had a defiant look in her eyes. The more she thought about it though, the more it made sense that her relationship with the Doctor was a bit... odd.

"OK, ok, understood, not an escort," Emily said, laughing. There was an awkward silence as the dust settled.

"So what do you do?" Clara asked, she did already know the answer. She aimed a small smile in Emily's direction.

Emily finished her drink and pulled the phone out of her bag to look at the time, she stared down at it for a moment. Clara watched her mentally weigh up what to say. "Photography," Emily said, getting up from her seat suddenly, distracted, looking at the handset. "I'm ringing, will you excuse me for one minute?" She took her bag with her.

"Go for it," Clara said. She watched Emily go outside and answer the phone, lighting up another cigarette. The Doctor had left her a voicemail message, whilst they'd been talking. She listened to it, a confused angry blur of words and chatter, unable to hear it over the conversation and music in the bar. She ignored it.

Clara was actually secretly enjoying herself, not sure if it was the wine or the conversation, but it seemed to her at least they had a few things in common.

She watched Emily smoking, half wondering if she was going to walk off. Emily looked at her directly through the window and laughed into the phone before taking one last drag, stubbing the cigarette into a bin on the wall. She walked back in but didn't sit down.

"Sorry about that... Someone was checking up on me, my plans appear to have changed... would you like another?"

"I hope you told whoever it was that I haven't murdered you," Clara joked. "Go on then," she said, no convincing needed.

Emily disappeared to the bar, returning with a full bottle of rose wine and two glasses. She set them down and then hopped up onto the bar stool.

"I hope you don't mind sharing a bottle?" Emily said. "I just got IDed for this, hope it is fucking worth it."

"Not at all." Clara said, "I haven't had a conversation with anyone like this for ages, the Doctor never wants to know about me, and everyone at work only talks about the kids. I guess I should be thanking you."

Emily poured out a glass of wine for herself and handed the bottle to Clara. "I hate to say it, but for a crazy woman you're pretty intriguing."

"Is that a compliment?" Clara asked, unsure whether to be offended or pleased. She poured herself a sizeable measure.

"From me, yes," Emily smiled, "I'd have made an excuse to leave by now if I wasn't enjoying myself, you are a very welcome distraction."

"So how does someone do photography for a living?" Clara asked, almost goading her.

"After my gap year I moved to London to do a degree, and then I applied for an internship in New York-" Emily said.

"New York? Did you take that picture on your phone? The background picture?" Clara interrupted.

"Yes," nodded Emily.

"I've always wanted to go there," sighed Clara. "Excellent picture, by the way."

"Thanks, I love it, so vibrant and excessive," Emily smiled, she took a large glug of wine. "I got some great experience and some good exposure."

Clara laughed, "is that a photography in-joke? Like it."

"What? Oh yeah, exposure, right, yes," she trailed off, a small smile passing over her lips.

"So how come you're back here then?"

"I was there for eight months, and then I had to come back home before I completed it as..." she paused, "my girlfriend got sick. Very sick. I didn't manage to finish the course."

"I'm sorry... how long have you been together?" Clara asked.

"We were together five years," Emily looked down at her wine, watching the liquid coat the inside of the glass. "Together since we were 16."

Clara identified the use of the past tense, and could mentally add up in her head that there was a three year gap so proceeded carefully. "What happened?"

Emily looked away, "She got cancer." She swallowed heavily before sipping her wine. "Didn't tell me for six months, I come back when her flatmate calls me and she died the week after."

Clara looked at her, she could read Emily's look."I'm-" she started and then stopped herself. It was the last thing she would want to hear.

"That was two and a half years ago," Emily didn't cry but it looked like she could have if she wanted to. Clara knew that feeling. "I took me a long time to sort myself out. I was a fucking mess for most of the next year, I went back to Bristol for a bit, I drank and took pills to take the pain away. Makes you realise how fragile life is."

"I felt like that after my mum died," said Clara, thinking back to 2005, "I remember standing there at her grave with my dad thinking, how is this going to get better? It can't be fixed. I was 19, just started my degree..."

"What did you study?" Emily said, looking grateful to not have to explain any further.

"English Literature at Roehampton," Clara said. "I had all these plans to go travelling after my degree," she sighed. "I've had a book since I was 8 of 101 Places To See."

"Have you been to any of them?" Emily asked, "did the Doctor take you?"

"A few in passing, but not really, he seems to be working from the currently unpublished book of 101 Places You Have Never Even Heard Of But Are Actually Pretty Amazing." Clara sipped her wine gently.

"So what happened? Why didn't you travel?" Emily topped up her glass

"I agreed to be, like, a summer babysitter for my dad's mate George, for their two kids Artie and Angie. And then their mum died so I stayed with them, poor kids were heartbroken."

"I bet."

"So I just ended up not leaving. And then the Doctor turned up," Clara said, "dressed as a monk," she said as an aside, "and he took me to all these amazing places, and we just kind of travelled together. He used to turn up every Wednesday and we'd go off."

"So like date night then?" Emily probed.

"You could call it that I suppose," Clara agreed.

"How does that work on a school night? Don't you have to be back for Thursday morning?" It was a very valid point, how was she going to explain this?

"He always drops me back in time," she said. Not technically a lie.

Emily pondered for a moment, topping up her wine glass from the bottle. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead," Clara said.

"He's imaginary, isn't he?" Emily asked, "a coping mechanism for the grief you've had. My psychiatrist told me I might have something like that happen after Naomi died, as a way to fill the space they've left."

"I assure you he is real," Clara said, she could see why Emily thought this. "He's my best friend, and he needs me to reign himself in sometimes."

"So if you rang him now he'd answer?"

"I'm quite sure he wouldn't, he struggles with two way conversation." Clara laughed.

"Ring him," Emily dared her, "tell him to come and meet us!"

"He doesn't do social calls," Clara mused, "but I do like winding him up." She retrieved her phone and saw another couple of missed calls from him. She dialled his number and it rang out. "Typical." She left a voicemail message, rolling her eyes at Emily. "Hi Doctor, it's me, sorry I missed your," she emphasised the number, "400 missed calls, I lost my phone, only just got it back. Give me a call when you get this." She put her phone away.

There was a knock on the window in front of them, Clara saw the Doctor on the other side of the glass, he was grinning painfully.

"Oh, that's him," Clara pointed. "Let me just see what he wants. Excuse me for a minute."

"How- What-," Emily stuttered as Clara jumped down off the seat. "How the fuck has he just done that?"

Clara walked around Emily and went outside, the Doctor was standing looking at her. "Hello Clara. Well technically past Clara, future Clara is in the TARDIS because she," he paused, saying loudly, "answered her phone." He gave her an impatient look. She looked over at the TARDIS, about 50 metres down the road and saw herself wave, she waved back.

"Hello Doctor. What do you want? I'm sort of busy," Clara said.

"Apparently I needed to come all the way down here right now to tell you something."

"And what is that?" Clara said, curious.


	4. Chapter 4

"Future Clara," the Doctor pointed to the TARDIS, "the one over there," he looked her up and down, "the one with better clothes, "told me to give you this..." he held out a folded paper note to her. "The next time you want to talk to your past self just take the TARDIS and do it yourself ok?"

Clara looked down at the note, read it and laughed. She looked through the glass at Emily, texting on her phone, Future Clara was right, she hadn't noticed. She raised an eyebrow up at the Doctor. "Did future me tell you what was written on this? I hope to god she didn't!" She blushed.

"No she did not," the Doctor said, trying to see what was written down, she folded it up before he read it. "You can't just use time travel to pass yourself notes you know, I blew up a solar system trying to get here. What was so vitally important that you had to get me to bring you this?"

"Oh nothing," Clara said with wide eyes. "But tell her thank you, and hope she enjoyed it."

"Enjoyed what?" the Doctor said, feeling like he was missing something.

"Goodbye Doctor," Clara began walking off towards the door of the bar smiling, putting the folded note in her back left pocket. She waved at herself again before disappearing inside.

"That's the Doctor?" Emily said as she returned to her seat. "He's older than I thought, I guess you must tell a lot of people he's your dad."

Clara laughed, "I do actually." The Doctor was still outside, looking at her, and then at Emily. Clara mouthed for him to go and waved her hand at him. She saw him ball his fists, shrug his shoulders and storm off angrily out of view. "Do you believe me now?" Clara asked her. "Nothing there... at all."

"How did he get here so quickly? You only left a message a second ago."

"Come on," said Clara, "do you think you're the only person who lets their friends know where they are. He was just checking up on me."

"What was on that note he gave you?" Emily said, curious, pointing outside.

"What note?" Clara said, feigning ignorance, unusually badly.

"The one in your back pocket," Emily said.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Clara hoped this would put her off. Clara topped up her glass of wine with the remainder of the bottle, setting it away from them. "Looks like that is finished."

"Pass me the cocktail menu, will you?" Emily said.

"Sure," Clara stretched to her right a few feet, standing up slightly on the foot rest of the stool, to reach the menu. She felt a hand slip quickly into her back left pocket and out again.

"This note," Emily said, holding the folded paper out of Clara's reach, smiling.

"Hey!" said Clara, snatching out her hand to take it back. Clara ended up holding Emily's right hand as she tried to grab the letter back. "That's mine..."

Emily moved the note to her other hand easily and unfolded it, turning it over in her hands. Clara blushed bright red, she'd have a lot of explaining to do if Emily saw the note.

"It's... blank..." Emily said confused, looking up at Clara. "Why is it blank? Are you having me on?"

"Oh," said Clara, laughing to herself, she'd obviously used that weird ink from Tricadium which was only visible to the intended recipient, "I am good," she said under her breath. "It's nothing. Have it if you want."

Emily folded it back up and held it out to her, narrowing her eyes. "Is it magic paper?" She pointed outside, "from the magician?"

"Yes," she smirked. She opened the note and looked down at it, seeing her own handwriting. The note read:

I know you haven't noticed yet, but she's attractive, isn't she?  
Stop talking about the Doctor, go back inside, say yes when she asks you to go with her and you will have a good night... that's all I'm saying.  
And please don't get too drunk, I want to remember. No more wine. OK?

Clara laughed to herself, reading it again. It must have been a good night if she'd had to come back and tell herself, she had never done that before.

"Why is he passing you a blank note? Forget his glasses did he?" Emily smirked.

"He usually wears sunglasses, I suppose I should be grateful," Clara laughed.

"How old is he?" Emily asked. "Mid-50s?"

"If you ever ask him he'd say 1056, or something, I'd say late 50s."

"He's as crazy as you are, isn't he?" Emily said, looking at the time on her phone. She was distracted by looking at it.

Clara got the feeling she was losing her attention, so decided to heed her own advice from the note. "But anyway, enough about me and the Doctor, tell me about your photos... What are you working on?"

"Well," Emily's eyes lit up. "We just opened an exhibition in the White Cube last night, it's part of my Masters project."

"I saw-" Clara almost blurted out before she stopped herself, putting her right index finger to her mouth. "Really?" she corrected. "White Cube, famous gallery in Hoxton? I know it, near to my school. That is seriously impressive." Clara wondered when had she started to think she was the most interesting person in any room because of her travels with the Doctor. As much as she hated to admit it, Future Clara was right. When had she become like the Doctor himself?

"Yes," Emily said, a shy smile spreading over her face, "thank you. Only for a week, but it's kind of a big deal." Her brown eyes sparkled.

"I bet! Some of those pictures on your phone were really, really good." Clara looked at Emily, seeing the excitement on her face.

"So you did look!" Emily said, surprised.

"Only at the photos, nothing else, promise," Clara laughed. "You went through all my messages so can hardly have a go at me."

"They very entertaining." Emily laughed. "Would you like another drink?"

"If we share another bottle of wine I am going to get drunk," Clara said, remembering her own advice to not have any more wine. "No more wine for me."

"Fuck off, four glasses of wine does not get anyone drunk," Emily laughed.

"I'm not sure you are ready for drunk me, not even sure I am ready for that," said Clara. "I don't do drunk very well."

"I get off my tits most nights so I think nothing of it," Emily sighed. "Come on, live a little."

"I really shouldn't..." said Clara. She needed to listen to Future Clara.

"Can't tempt you with a cocktail?" Emily said. "You strike me as a cocktail girl."

Future Clara had said nothing about cocktails, only to stay off the wine. "OK..." she said playfully resigned.

"Yes! I knew it," Emily said, perusing the list. "What can I get you?"

"Strawberry Daiquiri," Clara said. "Thank you."

Emily disappeared towards the bar, there were more people in here now, it was getting louder. She returned five minutes later with two drinks.

"Fucking bloke IDed me again," she laughed. "Next round is on you."

"Your exhibition, maybe I could, you know, go after work one night this week and see it?" Clara said casually.

"Really?" Emily said, surprised.

"Like I said, my school is in Shoreditch, five minute walk from there," Clara smiled.

"On one condition," Emily stipulated. "You let me show you round... call it the director's commentary package."

"I'd like that." Clara wondered if she had just agreed to go on a date. "I know nothing about photography, probably for the best."

Emily paused, stabbing her mojito with the straw to break up some of the ice. "I know you're probably busy or something, but someone off my course is having a house party in Bow later, I wasn't planning to go as I only know a couple of people but... do you want to come with me?" Emily said looking at her slightly nervously. "I'm enjoying the distraction."

"Yes," Clara smiled. "Why not?"

"You don't have to say yes, you know?"

"You're right, I don't have to, but I want to," Clara said, blushing slightly. She took a sip of her cocktail and winced, smiling. "That is strong. Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Can I?" Emily indicated towards Clara's glass. Clara nodded and watched Emily pick it up, she took a sip from the side and put it down. "Weakest fucking thing I've ever tasted, what are you talking about?" she laughed. She offered her short glass to Clara, "try mine."

"Ok," Clara looked at her with a tilted head, curious. She took a sip of the pale brown drink that left her feeling like a fire breathing dragon afterwards. She pushed the drink away, coughing. "What the hell is that?"

Emily simply laughed at her. "You're hilarious."

"Stop laughing at me!" Clara laughed. She was beginning to feel a little tipsy. "Ok ok, so I'm a lightweight. Don't judge me," she put a hand on the bar and laughed.

"Is that what happens when you get old?" Emily said playfully.

"I'm sorry?" Clara said, louder, offended.

"I mean for someone who is 30 this year you should be on the floor by now right?"

She'd told her she was 27, hadn't she? "What are you talking about, I am not 30 this year! I am 27."

"Classic denial," Emily shook her head, smiling. "Do you think you are the only one who is not above a bit of Facebook stalking?'

"So you've...?" Clara asked, embarrassed.

"Like you didn't, come on." Emily looked at her.

"Ok," Clara sighed, caught out, "I did, just a bit so I knew who I was meeting."

"It's ok, I don't mind. My flatmates thought you were fit and told me to meet you," she said.

Clara inhaled the sip of her drink, coughing slightly. "What?!" She blushed bright red, sobering up momentarily. Was she hitting on her?

"I said my-" Emily started, with a small smile.

"No, I heard you perfectly well, hearing has not gone yet, thanks. I was reacting," Clara interrupted, still blushing. How should she proceed? "I- i- don't know what to say to that..." she trailed off.

Emily looked at her, a small smile on her face. Clara could tell she was waiting for her to react.

"That- that is a very big complement," Clara said slowly, "tell your flatmates thank you." Clara took a large sip of her drink, unable to find any more words.

Emily drank and looked at her, "I will be sure to do that. You know..." she paused, looking out of the window. Clara could see her trying to formulate a sentence but unable to word it properly. "You know," she paused as if getting up the courage to speak, "I think I may agree with them..." Emily laughed nervously. She was definitely hitting on her.

Clara swallowed hard, a wave of tipsyness returning. She couldn't string any words together, managing only a smile before mumbling, "thank you." She was trying to seperate what was happening from what she knew might happen.

Emily laughed once to herself. She looked at her drink, swirling the ice around. "Yeah, I might have used a slightly different word."

Clara regained her composure slightly. "Like what? Fit is the sort of word the kids use to describe me when they think I can't hear them." She laughed.

"And I can imagine you are very popular," Emily smiled. "I would have said..." she paused to look into Clara's eyes. "You know, your photos don't do you justice."

"Are you... hitting on me?" said Clara, knowing fully well this point had been established already.

"Oh for fuck's sake, yes! Ok?" Emily said."Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Considering I'm an English teacher I'd certainly hope not," Clara retorted sarcastically.

"You ok with that?"

"Surprisingly I am," Clara said, not pausing. She looked at Emily and smiled. She was feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement inside.

"Ok then," Emily said, finishing off her drink, looking away. Clara knew she had to say something, however awkward it was going to be.

"How do I say this?" Clara paused, smiling.

"It's ok, I understand, you're not interested, it's fine," Emily sighed, "I must have misread what was going on, ok, well, I guess I should go..." she began to get up to leave.

"Sit," Clara said.


	5. Chapter 5

"Ok..." said Emily, confused, creasing her eyebrows. She paused her movements.

"Sit down," Clara reiterated. "What I was trying to say was..." she paused and put her index finger up to her mouth as she thought, "I'm enjoying myself and I don't want you to leave because... oh how do I say this..."

Emily looked at her, curious. "For god's sake..."

Clara closed her eyes and screwed up her face before blurting out, "Ok, ok." She opened her eyes, "the feeling is very much reciprocated," she said quickly under her breath.

"What?" Emily said, "didn't quite catch that." She smiled in a way that said she was lying.

Clara laughed, "I am no good at this." This was awkward.

"I knew it," Emily said, pleased with herself.

"Knew what?" Clara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That motorbike is a dead giveaway, I mean, could you get any more clichéd?" Emily laughed.

"Err, what are you talking about?" Clara said before realising what Emily meant, "oh..."

"Yes, oh," Emily smiled, nodding at her.

'Hang on, no, I'm not," Clara said, blushing.

"Of course you're not," Emily said sarcastically. "You can just tell, you know."

"I'm not..." Clara tried to justify herself. She searched for the correct word.

"Gay?" Emily added, helping out.

"Yes, no, I'm not, but..." Clara squirmed, she was eager to move the conversation away from this.

"But what?" Emily pushed her.

"Well," she caved in, "let's just say I experimented at uni a couple of times, nothing serious. And I think I may have ended up sleeping with Ella from 8F a few months ago, judging by how she has not spoken to me since, you know, when I woke up without my shoe." Clara explained.

"How were you dressed?" Emily asked, cheekily.

"I was topless, holding a shoe in one hand, tequila bottle in the other."

"I once woke up next to a girl who was completely naked with no recollection of what happened... that was awkward." Emily laughed.

"Ok..."

"The fact you were just topless would lead me to believe nothing that serious went on," Emily smirked.

"I was the drunkest I have ever been that night," Clara sighed, shaking her head, "I'm glad how I found myself implies nothing happened."

Clara drained her cocktail, and looked around, noticing it was busy and loud. She fancied some fresh air.

"I fancy getting out of here," Clara said, just as a large group of rowdy men gathered behind them. She noticed the time was 6.30pm. "How is it almost dark already?" she exclaimed.

"I need a fag,' said Emily, pulling out a cigarette from her bag and holding it between her fingers. "Let's go." She jumped off and weaved through the people to leave.

Clara got up, pulled her coat on and followed her into the street. She found Emily leaning sidewaya up against a wall a little further down the road, cigarette lit and finishing off sending a message. Clara pulled the collar of her coat up against the wind. "Are you not cold?"

"It is fucking freezing out here! I wasn't expecting to still be out by now, if you know what I mean?" She exhaled smoke. "Let's walk."

"Where are we going?" Clara said as they walked back through the market. There were lots of people spilling out from various restaurants mixing with the market crowds. Clara had forgotten how busy London was on a Saturday night.

"We need to get away from all of this, I know that for sure."

They walked through the market, out towards Commercial Street, the shoppers were beginning to thin out replaced by people presumably heading towards the Cereal Killer cafe. At 7pm on a Saturday evening.

"God this place is full of hipsters," Clara said under her breath, looking around.

"All the more reason to get out of here," Emily smiled, before taking another drag of her cigarette. "And I am freezing my fucking tits off," she laughed. "Do you mind if we go to mine so I can pick up a coat? It's only ten minutes walk from here..."

Clara felt a little apprehensive, feeling it show on her face.

"... there's a really cheap pub two doors down."

"Ok," she said, remembering Future Clara's advice about saying yes tonight.

"I'll only be a few minutes, you can wait in the pub if you want?" said Emily, perhaps noticing Clara's change of tone.

"Cheap alcohol?" said Clara, attempting to hide her nerves, "sounds good to me."

Emily stubbed out her cigarette on top of a bin and then threw it away. They took a right down Brick Lane until Emily crossed the road. It was fully dark now, the only illumination provided by the street lamps and the gradual appearance of Indian restaurants. There were lots of people walking along the pavements, there was a misty haze hanging in the air. It looked like it was about to rain.

"I haven't been down here for ages," Clara said as a man approached them in the street, holding a menu.

"Ladies, dinner tonight?" he said smoothly, holding out an open hands towards the restaurant.

"And now I remember why," Clara said quietly.

"No thanks," said Emily, walking past him, a few doors down there was another man looking to do the same. "Come on, this way," she said to Clara walking down a street on the left.

After about five minutes of criss-crossing through streets drops of rain appeared in the air and on the pavement. The road was dark, the rain increased quickly to something resembling a monsoon in Clara's eyes. She pulled up the hood of her jacket.

Emily ducked into a nearby doorway of a closed shop just before the downpour started, Clara followed her.

"Looks like a freak shower," said Clara, looking out at the sky and the droplets falling a foot in front of her. She pulled the hood off.

"I hope so," said Emily, running her fingers through her hair, leaning back against the glazed door.

"How far away is your place?" Clara asked. "I have no idea where we are..."

"A couple more streets away, but I don't fancy being wet and freezing, one or the other, fine, but not both." She laughed, looking down, pushing some hair from her eyes.

"You know, the Doctor took me to a submarine in Russia once, we were there for hours, the wettest and coldest I've ever been," she paused, "had to borrow one of the captain's jackets. He was supposed to take me to Las Vegas for the weekend, but he got lost."

"How do you confuse Las Vegas and Russia?" asked Emily, letting out a small laugh. "You are so full of shit!"

"It had lots of 80s music, a lot of Duran Duran..."

"So it was a club then? An 80s rave on a submarine?" Emily asked, impressed.

"Sort of," she lied.

"That sounds cool," Emily sighed, "got to be better than some warehouse in Hackney."

The rain continued, Emily pulled out the last cigarette from the packet and held it between her lips as she crushed the box and fished for her lighter, unable to find it, she searched her pockets. She found it in her jeans, but she couldn't get it to light, no matter how many times she tried.

"Don't suppose you have a lighter?" Emily said.

Clara shook her head but then paused, she took a packet of matches out of her bag that were attracted to a receipt from a bar a few weeks ago. "But I do have these." She offered them to Emily.

Emily smiled, "amazing, thank you," she took them from Clara's hand. "I really am trying to quit," she turned around to shelter herself as she lit one of the matches, "just not doing very well at it."

Emily held out the matches once she finished, looking down at the packet.

"Keep them," Clara said.

"When did you go there?" she held up the box for a bar in Hoxton.

"A few weeks ago, work drinks," Clara said.

"I was there last night, small world, isn't it?" Emily smiled. "Not of course that I remember most of it, I was drunk, no idea how I got home."

"You're doing surprisingly well, I wouldn't have even been able to get out of bed," Clara sighed.

"Lots of practice," Emily said. The rain was beginning to ease off slightly. "You know for two people who randomly met we have an awful lot in common, don't we?"

"If you don't count the ability to deal with alcohol..." Clara replied.

"And the age difference," Emily joked.

"Shut up" said Clara laughed, pushing Emily on her left shoulder playfully.

Emily looked at her, tilting her head, saying nothing. Her large eyes blinked several times before she turned her head and inhaled through the cigarette. She smiled and shook her head, dispersing a plume of smoke before she dropped the cigarette to the floor and twisted her shoe over it.

"Looks like the rain has stopped," Clara held her hand out and looked up. "Well, almost."

"Good," said Emily, "Follow me, my place is just around the corner. I need to get into the warm."

Two streets further on Emily stopped in front of a door next to an off licence and took her keys out.

"This is me, are you coming in or...?" Emily asked. "Hopefully my flatmate has paid the electricity bill and it's warm."

"Only if you promise not to murder me," she said only slightly sarcastically.

"Hmm..." said Emily, opening the door, walking inside.

Clara stepped inside nervously. The last thing she'd expected to be doing this evening was being in a stranger's house.

Clara closed the door behind her, watching as Emily began climbing the stairs in front. "Third floor," she said.

"How many people do you live with?" Clara asked whilst they went up.

"Five at the moment, makes the rent just affordable," she laughed. "How about you?"

"Just me," Clara said. She was reminded of the house she shared with three other people in the second and third years of university. She much preferred her own space. "And the Doctor if he mysteriously appears."

"I still think that's a bit fucking weird," Emily said as she unlocked the front door. She held it open for Clara before closing it. "You know this is the last thing I was expecting to do today." The lights blinked to life.

"I was just thinking the same thing," smiled Clara.

Emily turned to face her, stepping a pace forward. "Bringing an attractive woman back to mine, that is." She paused, waiting for a reaction.

Clara felt herself blush, swallowing hard. She wasn't sure how to react. An awkward silence hung in the air as Emily looked at her.

"Say something," Emily said.

"Umm, is attractive the word you're going with now?" she tried to joke.

"Yes," Emily said, nodding slightly, looking into Clara's eyes, moving closer. "I want... " she paused, "I want to.. kiss you."

Clara blushed heavily, not sure how to respond. "Erm... Thank you?" she replied as a question.

"Thank you?" said Emily, crossing her arms and looking at Clara, "that's your reaction?"

"I'm- I'm- very flattered," Clara stuttered, shyly looking down to the floor. "I- I- just..."

Emily tilted her head and smiled, "Yes?"

Clara sighed, closing, "I don't know how to do this..."

"You," she mimicked Clara, "don't know how to do this?" Emily laughed, "fuck off." She stood with her arms folded.

"You know what I mean," Clara said, resigned.

"Do I?" Emily said, "sounds simple to me."

Clara leant back against the door. "Just unexpected, that's all," she smiled. She was still a little tipsy.

Emily made no attempt to move, raising an eyebrow.

Clara laughed to herself, blushing. "Ok, ok," she said, looking at Emily with wide eyes, she pushed herself off the door to stand up straight, talking a pace towards her. Emily's eyes were watching her intently. She was attractive stood like this, she had to admit.

Clara took her right hand to nervously rest it on Emily's arm, watching for a reaction. She then put a hand up to Emily's left cheek to brush some hair away from her face gently.

Emily looked up at her, marginally taller with shoes, and smiled, raising an eyebrow, blatantly letting Clara come to her. Her eyes flicked between Clara's eyes and her mouth.

Clara swallowed a breath as she moved in closer, resting a hand on Emily's shoulder, her thumb making contact with the soft skin of her neck. Emily smiled at her as she unfolded her arms to put them around Clara's waist, inside her jacket.

Clara felt intense butterflies inside the pit of her stomach at Emily's touch, as her hands moved either side of her hips. Clara looked down briefly before moving her left hand onto Emily's neck and her right hand on Emily's side.

Clara watched Emily's lips, smiling to herself as she pulled Emily towards her, preparing herself to close her eyes and lean in for a kiss...

"Oh hi Em, didn't realise you were in," came a male voice from inside the room.

Clara instinctively took her hands off Emily and pulled away, feeling herself blushing, embarrassed, She turned to look and saw a young thin man standing up holding a bowl of cereal. He had dirty blonde short hair, wearing skinny jeans and a baggy jumper. He grinned widely at them both.

"Fuck's sake, Lewis!" Emily shouted, turning to face him, "how long have you been standing there?"

"Not long," he smirked. "I mean, long enough to pick my moment to speak up."

"Of course," Emily said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"What have I told you Em? No lesbianism in the communal areas," he said deadpan.

"Fuck you," she said, resigned. "Clara..." she paused, pointing, "this is Lewis, one of my flatmates, and he is a massive prick-"

"Thank you," he interrupted, pretending to be offended

"... Lewis, this is Clara."

"Hi," Clara half waved, attempting a smile, still feeling herself go red.

He laughed, putting the bowl of cereal down on the kitchen side, finishing a mouthful, pointing at her. "Is this her?" he said, looking towards Emily.

"Yes," said Emily, distracted.

"The one whose phone we spent all night looking through?" he said, walking towards them.

"What?" Clara reacted.

"Yes," she said. Clara turned to look at Emily and narrow her eyes.

"The one that has that angry Scottish bloke ringing every five minutes?" he said.

"Yes," she said.

"The one you said was-"

"Yes!" she interrupted him. "Shut up."

He moved to stand next to Emily and looked Clara up and down. "Hello," he said, holding out a hand to her. "Very nice to meet you."

Clara shook his hand with hers, smiling at him.

"Sorry about her," he tilted his head towards Emily. "She gets like this, probably her time of the month."

"Lewis, for fuck's sake-" she turned to shove him hard on his chest.

"See what I mean?" he laughed.

"Is there any chance you could go and be an arsehole somewhere else?" Emily snapped.

"Nope," he said, grinning. "Can I take your coat... umm?"

"Clara," she said.

"Yes, Clara, can I take your coat? Maybe offer you a drink? Seeing as she hasn't." He moved towards her.

"We weren't stopping, Lewis, I was just picking up my coat before heading out, I was thinking about going to Mareta's later."

"What? Really? That shit snoozefest?!" Lewis winced. "I'm going to the Swan, Loretta McLean is playing. You should come. Let's put it to your friend, what would you prefer? An evening of being bored senseless by art bores, all berets and polo necks-" Clara laughed at his description.

"Excuse me!" interjected Emily, "they are people from my course and I happen to like them."

"-or a night of singing, dancing, drinking with a boy I've been talking to on Grindr for a couple of hours, ropey alcopops and a night full of drama? Never a dull night at the Swan. The best or worst drag queens you've ever seen. What do you think Clare?"

"Clara," Emily corrected, unimpressed.

"An evening of talking about light and shade and all that bollocks, or... the best or possibly worst night you've ever had in your life?" He looked at her.

"I don't know," said Clara, genuinely confused. Emily crossed her arms and gave him a dirty look.

"Em, sort your girlfriend out! We're going to the Swan." He disappeared into the kitchen and put three shot glasses on the counter. He poured clear a liquid into all three, spilling a large amount on the work surface. Clara could already smell it was sambuca from the other side of the room. "Carla, drop your stuff, take your coat off and come over here for shots, leave old miserable bollocks over there if she wants, you look like a girl who recognises sambuca when she sees some." He was right, Clara smiled at him. She could do a couple of shots, couldn't she? That wouldn't get her too drunk.

Clara took of her bag and laid her coat on top of it, made her way over to the stand with him and pick up a glass. She looked at Emily and raised an eyebrow, tilting her head, defiant, watching her eyes following her every movement.

"Yes, we like Carla," said Lewis, holding his glass up towards Clara's to clink it. "To the best night out you've ever had. Maybe. Probably not." They both drunk down the sambuca in one. It hit the back of Clara's mouth and the warmth burnt down her throat. She winced and laughed. "If you are going to go to that wanky party then at least get yourself shit faced before you go, might liven it up a bit," Lewis directed at Emily.

"What is wrong with you?" Emily walked over next to him, picking up the third glass of sambuca and necking it, shaking her head afterwards. "You know I hate sambuca."

"Cheer the fuck up," Lewis said to Emily, "I've already got Carla to to take off a layer of clothing, more than you've managed-"

"Lewis, you absolute fucking-" she punched him in the side with a large amount of force.

"Hey! Stop it!" he laughed, slighty winded. "I'm only joking." Emily shoved him again, hard, with both hands. Clara decided to pick up the bottle and refill the three shot glasses as they were jostling with each other. Emily paused, to look at Clara, a small smile covering her face. "Yes!" Lewis said, "I told you we like her."


	6. Chapter 6

"Aren't you a lightweight?" Emily looked at Clara suspisciously as they both gulped down a second sambuca.

"Not when it comes to shots," Clara lied. She was already starting to get light headed, it was, however, helping to ease her embarrassment.

"You know, Carla-"

"Clara!" Emily said, sternly.

"-sorry, Clara, I think you're going to be a lot of fun tonight." He winked at her. "Come on Em, blow off Boreta and come with me. I'm sure," he looked upwards, clicking his fingers, "Rich from Limehouse will appreciate the company."

Clara laughed. She liked him, she could be Carla for a little bit.

"Only..." Emily smirked over at him, "if the drinks are on you. And you call her by her actual name."

"Yes!" he gave her a high five. "Carla?" Lewis looked at her expectantly. "What do you say?"

"I'm going wherever she's going," Clara said with a cheeky smile.

"Yes Carla!" He walked around the kitchen unit to hug her, lifting her up off her feet. Her spun her around and planted a kiss on her cheek. Clara laughed as he put her down, feeling a little dizzy. "Tonight is going to be epic!" he said sing-song.

"Do you not have things to do?" said Emily, impatiently.

"No," he smiled, putting an arm around Clara's shoulders. "Do you?"

"I was kind of in the middle of something earlier..."

"Were you? I didn't notice," Lewis said dismissively.

"When are we going? Don't you have to get ready and stuff?" Emily said, not being so subtle this time.

"Shall we say an hour? I need to go and get fags from downstairs before it closes, do you want any?" he directed at Clara. She shook her head.

"Can you get me some menthols please?" Emily said, taking a fiver out of her jeans pocket.

"As long as you're not jealous," he said walking towards her, getting the money.

"Jealous?" Emily said loudly, "why would I be jealous?" He walked towards the front door and opened it, looking for all intents and purposes as if he were using it as a shield against her.

"Because I've still got further with Carla than you have!" his head said poking around the edge before snapping back. Emily threw a cushion in the general direction of the door. "Bye!" he said from the other side of the door.

"He is so fucking annoying!" Emily started angrily but then softened as she began laughing. She moved to pour herself another shot, facing away from Clara.

"I mean," Clara decided to add in, now tipsy, "technically he is right."

"Oh don't you fucking start as well... Carla." Emily poured out a second shot into another glass, laughing to herself. She turned around and held one out to Clara.

"You know I quite like my new name," said Clara, taking the shot and drinking it. She winced and shook her head as the sambuca entered her system. "I can be Carla for the night." She leant backwards slightly onto the fridge.

"Well then," Emily took the glass from her and put it on the side and moved to stand in front of Clara. Emily put her hands on Clara's waist and pushed her hips gently against Clara's. She felt a breath catch in the back of her throat. Emily leaned her head next to Clara's and whispered in her left ear, "Carla," Emily's breath was warm on her ear. She closed her eyes and gulped the lump in her throat back. "I think we need to sort that out."

Clara felt a tingle down her entire body as Emily put a soft kiss on her neck. Emily pulled away slightly and Clara opened her eyes, catching a breath. "I thought there was a rule..." she laughed nervously.

"Shut up," said Emily, shaking her head and smirking. Emily leaned in to kiss Clara suddenly, pushing her back onto the fridge, disturbing a few magnets onto the floor. Clara felt their lips meet and froze, unable to move or do anything, heart beating out of her chest. Emily pulled away, looking at her curiously. "Were you lying when you said you didn't know how to do this, or...?" she asked.

Clara laughed, shaking her head, "No... just unexpected."

"Well then, just... just give me a..." Emily stuttered, looking at her eyes.

Clara took a deep breath, stood up straight and then leaned in to kiss Emily, closing her eyes, holding onto her waist. She felt their lips touch, warm under hers, the curves of Emily's body pressing against hers tightly. Clara made the first move on the kiss, lingering her tongue on Emily's lips, feeling her replying by opening her mouth. Emily responded to the kiss, her tongue meeting Clara's, soft and warm. Clara took her left hand up to Emily's neck, touching it gently at first, then harder as her instincts kicked in. This felt good, very good.

Emily pulled away after a few minutes to kiss Clara's neck, she felt herself smile, feeling her pulse course through her body. Clara reinstated the kiss, more urgent this time, consumed by the familiar feeling of having to continue. Clara felt Emily's hands on her lower back, venturing underneath her shirt, as Clara pushed her backwards towards the kitchen side.

The front door opened loudly. Clara was aware of it happening, but chose to ignore the noise, using Emily's slight distraction to kiss her harder.

"Oh Carla," Lewis said, annoyed, walking towards them. "I'm upset, i thought you were saving yourself for me... and that you had better taste."

"Fuck off Lewis!" Emily said.

Emily placed her head onto Clara's chest, annoyed. She sighed loudly.

"And do you mind, people have to eat there," Lewis said, holding out a packet of cigarettes to Emily, deliberately far enough away that she had to move away from Clara.

"Thank you," she said angrily, snatching them from him. She spun around and walked away from him, grabbing Clara's hand and pulling her away towards another room, Clara managed to grab the half empty bottle of sambuca before Emily moved her.

"We are leaving in half an hour," Lewis shouted down the corridor as Emily stormed off towards a closed door, opened it and slammed it behind her.

"I fucking hate him..." she laughed, leaning back against the door. Clara took another shot of sambuca from the bottle, offering it to Emily. She took a large gulp, and then set the bottle down on the side.

"How have I ended up," Clara looked around, "in your bedroom?" Not that she minded right this second, she was getting progressively drunker. This was a problem for Future Clara to deal with, she smiled, knowing the hangover she was going to inflict on her.

"I am not staying in there with that fucking prick," Emily sighed, "when he just interrupted..." Emily paced up to Clara and reinstated the kiss, pressing her curves against Clara's again, venturing her hand under Clara's shirt. Clara put her hand on Emily's chest, moving it up onto her neck and onto her cheek as the kiss became increasingly more urgent. The long slow soft gentle kiss was giving way to something much deeper, making her pulse race.

Clara pulled away to catch her breath, feeling Emily kiss her neck again, soft gentle lips touching her skin, moving to undo the top button of her shirt. She was consumed by fear, excitement and pleasure. Clara met Emily's lips again, enjoying the kiss, feeling her bite her tongue occasionally. Emily pushed her backwards and Clara felt herself fall onto the bed, with Emily pressed on top of her. She had an immediate sense of fear at this, deciding to act on it, rather than carry on.

"I'm not..." she pulled away, "No, not yet," Clara said, she was beginning to get drunk and didn't want to go any further. Although, she thought, she really wanted to.

"Do you not want to?" Emily said, getting off, lying next to her.

Clara covered her eyes with her arm, "I do, I really, really... really do." She removed her arm to look at Emily. "Just, not right now, ok? The kissing, totally, totally on board with that, do as much kissing as you like, maybe a cheeky feel if you want, but I can't, you know, not yet."

"I get it," Emily said "it's cool." She said, standing up off the bed. "I'd need a lot longer than half an hour... well... twenty minutes with you, anyway," she nodded to herself, looking at Clara as if memorising the sight.

Clara sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry," she put her head in her hands, before looking up at her.

"It's fine, really," Emily said, walking towards the wardrobe. "I was not expecting to bring someone back either, especially..."

"Especially a what?" asked Clara, curious.

"Such a good kisser," Emily laughed, facing away to rifle through her wardrobe.

"Why thank you, thank you very much," she said, "you're... you're... not too bad yourself."

Emily took off her jumper and then removed the tshirt underneath, leaving just her bra. Clara watched, seeing the curves of her shoulder blades moving underneath the skin with every movement, the curve of her spine, flawless skin. She pulled on a dark purple vest top and then tight navy top that displayed just the right amount of cleavage when she eventually turned round. She moved the top on her whilst looking in the mirror on the other side of the room, before nodding. She sat on the chair opposite the bed and turned the straightners on, they bleeped in the background. Emily picked up the bottle of sambuca and took another shot, offering the dregs of the bottle to Clara.

Clara finished off the bottle before setting it on the bedside table. "Bloody hell, that is strong."

Emily turned around to look at her, "you know, that is the first time I've heard you sort of swear," she mused.

"Is it? I do it fairly often. Just been on my best behaviour, I guess," she laughed.

Emily straightened her hair nonchalantly for a few minutes, saying nothing but watching Clara through the mirror. "Say something," Clara said.

"Like what?"

"I don't know, anything..."

"I'm enjoying looking at your tits," Emily laughed.

"Oh," said Clara, blushing, remembering Emily had undone a button. She glanced down, initially going to do it up, but deciding to leave it. Instead she widened the gap to afford Emily a better view.

"Not helping at all," smirked Emily, "god, you are beautiful."

Clara smiled whilst still blushing, she could see it gave her dimples in the mirror. "Thanks," she mumbled.

Emily finished with her hair and retrieved another shirt from her wardrobe, putting it on and a large grey wool coat. "I'm ready, fancy a drink for the road?"

Clara nodded. Emily went to the door, but stopped before opening it, turning around to face her. She pulled the neck of Clara's shirt towards her, moving in for a kiss. Clara pushed her back against the door, forcing her body towards Emily's. The kiss was lingering, and Clara felt Emily trail a soft cold finger slowly down from her collar bone, down her neck, chest and then down where her cleavage began. A breath caught at the back of her throat.

Clara pulled away and went to kiss Emily's neck, gently as she could. Emily stretched out her neck as Clara kissed her.

There was a bang on the door. "Em, Carla, are you ready?"

Clara went back to kiss Emily impatiently again, unwilling to pull away. All she wanted to do want continue kissing her, feeling her soft warm and wet tongue meeting her own. She moaned into the kiss lightly.

"Come on ladies, let's go!" Lewis shouted from the other side of the door.

Emily opened the door behind her, still kissing for a minute before they emerged towards the kitchen.

"Ready?" said Lewis, putting on some trainers.

"Yes we are," Emily said, opening the fridge to get a bottle of fruit cider, offering Clara one. She opened the bottle tops with a nearby corkscrew and left the lids on the side. She smirked.

"Oh no," Lewis said, "you haven't have you?"

Emily didn't answer, she only smiled.

"No, I thought Carla would have more sense," he sighed. "You've changed, Carla's shirt is undone, you've both got lipstick smeared on your face..."

"What?" Clara said.

"Only joking," he laughed, "just... just keep your fishy fingers off away from everything, ok?" He opened the door, picked up Clara's coat and held it out to help her put it on. "Carla, your jacket awaits."

"Thank you," she said, "what a gentleman." She put on the coat, still holding the cider, he held out his elbow at 90 degrees for her to loop her arm through. "Let's go, Em, be a dear and lock up."

He dragged her quickly down the stairs and out into the street. "You know, Clara," he got her name right for once once they were a few metres away, Emily had not emerged, "I like you."

"Thanks," she said, a little confused.

"Em has been through a lot so play nice with her ok? Just be honest with her about what you want, don't string her along. Alright?"

"Message understood," she said, saluting, knowing what he was doing. She took a sip of cider, it was nice, tasted like ribena compared to the sambuca.

"Good," he said, half warning her.

Emily ran to catch up, "Lewis, give her to me."

He let go of Clara's elbow and sidled up next to her. Clara felt Emily hold her hand in a gentle yet somehow vice like grip. They weaved through dark, dimly lit streets, still glistening with the earlier train, at one point they went through the graveyard of a church. A fine grey mist clung to the grass as they passed.

They emerged towards a main road, Clara finished her cider and dropped the glass bottle heavily in a nearby bin. Emily finished off a cigarette and they walked lazily across four lanes of traffic, almost getting run over a handful of times.

"Here we are!" Lewis said, pointing towards the sign that said The White Swan. "The Swan! The venue that never fails to disappoint!"

"Only like every time you go," Emily said to Clara.

There was no queue, Lewis and Emily walked up to the small green door and got IDed, Clara did not. She was about to go in when a strong arm appeared in front and stopped her.

"Do you know what sort of club this is, love?" the bouncer half barked.

"I've been lead to believe the worst club I'll ever go to, apparently the best night I'll ever have and someone called Loretta is singing. And my girlfriend is inside."

He looked at her for a few moments, and then laughed. "Have a good night, love."

She walked into a dark room, lit with disco lights, loud, playing thumping remixed pop. Emily was at the cloakroom, relieving herself of her coat. Clara did the same, checking her pockets, finding only her phone in the right hand side. She'd left her bag at Emily's. She slid her phone into her jeans pocket and handed over the coat.

"It's alright, tonight is on Lewis," Emily said, smiling, holding up a ten pound note between her fingers.

"Free drinks all night?" Clara shouted in Emily's ear.

"Yes," she smiled.

Clara was already severely tipsy, there was no way she was not going to get paralytic tonight. Wine, cocktails, a large dose of sambuca, cider... All she needed to complete the set was some beer.

Lewis was at the bar, ordering drinks, talking to another man. There were eight shots lined up on the bar, four green and four red. Behind them the bartender put four cans of Red Stripe.

"Emily, Carla... meet Richard," he pointed to a shorter thin dark haired man next to him. "Shots for everyone! Green first..." he handed them out. "Cheers!"

Clara held the small plastic glass up, and then drunk it in one. It was sickly sweet medicinal apple flavour. Not unpleasant. She put the glass back on the bar.

"Red one next," he distributed them. "Cheers."

Clara necked the red liquid. It was like molten fire at the back of her throat, she winced, automatically putting the back of her left hand to her mouth.

"What the hell is that?" Clara shouted out, fighting a wave of nausea.

"Only Aftershock," Lewis smiled.

Emily laughed at her, mouthing the word "lightweight" at her.

"And now beer!" A can of Red Stripe was pushed into her hand. "Emily, I hope you appreciate how drunk and suggestable I'm going to get Carla tonight. Only way she'll sleep with you," he shouted.

"I seem to be doing pretty well on my own, thanks," she retorted, leading Clara away.

Clara was now beginning to get more than a little lightheaded.

"D-You do this every night?" she slurred slightly.

"Most nights," Emily laughed, talking a large gulp of beer. Clara did the same. She could drink beer, of course she could, but she didn't particularly like the taste.

"I'm getting wasted, going to be no use to you if I am," she said through a hiccup.

"You know," said Emily, said loudly. "All I want to do right now is take you back to mine and," she pulled in close to Clara's ear, whispering, "have sex." She pulled away, looking away from Clara but still watching for a reaction.

Clara breathed in suddenly and swallowed hard. She unconsciously bit her lip, thinking of a reply.

"Umm, I..." she paused, "now, now I know you are definitely hitting on me." She pressed a finger on Emily's chest.

Emily laughed, smiling at her.

Clara sipped gently at the beer, feeling herself moving from very tipsy to happy drunk. What was she doing? Future Clara must have known she was going to get wasted. Why had she told her not to get drunk?

Emily put her arm around Clara's shoulders as they leaned backwards up against the bar.

"You know, I am getting very drunk," she shouted louder than she needed to at Emily. She drank another sip of beer.

"Do you want to dance?" replied Emily, moving the arm around her shoulder to hold Clara's left hand.

"Not to this," Clara said, indicating the thumping electronic music. She didn't like it. "Maybe when a decent song comes on."

Emily finished her beer and set the can down on the bar, indicating Clara to do the same. Clara finished off the beer, fighting a strong urge to be sick. Emily pulled her towards the busy dance floor and moved Clara to face her.

"You do dance, right?" Emily shouted in her ear, just about audible over the music.

"Of course I do, just because I'm approaching 30 doesn't mean I'm investing in a zimmer frame just yet," she said, into Emily's ear.

"What?" Emily shouted, unable to hear. She put her hands holding Clara's waist and pulled her close.

Clara rested her chin on Emily's left shoulder as she lazed her own hands on Emily's hips, feeling them move as the song changed to something she vaguely recognised. Clara was struggling to remember the last time she'd danced with someone like this, let alone a woman and let alone someone she knew she was going to sleep with. She felt a wave of intoxication flow through her body, allowing herself to move to the music without anything to stop her.

Emily ran a hand through her hair as she moved against Clara, moving her other hand up under her shirt at the back. Clara moved up to hold Emily around her waist, touching bare flesh with her thumbs above the waistband of her jeans. She was enjoying this.

Emily moved her hand up to Clara's neck, stroking her right cheek with the thumb as their hips moved in time with each other to the music. Clara moved her right hand to Emily's side, tracing the curve of her breast with her fingers. She saw Emily's eyes sparkle in the lights, feeling the movement reciprocated on her own body. It caught the breath at the back of Clara's throat.

Clara, possessed by an urge that flooded through her entire body that exact moment, went in to kiss Emily again. She knew this feeling, wanting to kiss someone for the rest of the night. The undeniable alcohol fuelled lust of wanting to touch every part of their body and take every piece of clothing off. That was how she felt at this moment.

Emily returned her kiss, soft at first and then harder, more urgent, pulling Clara closer. Tongues ventured deep inside mouths, mouths lingered on necks, fingers pulled through hair, hands placed on bare skin. The feeling of not wanting to pull away for a second or to even take a breath.

Clara eventually found herself pushed against a hard wall, no longer dancing, long losing any recollection of what was playing, but instead urgently trying to touch as much of Emily's body as she could, whilst not breaking away from the kiss. Breasts pressed hard against her, fingers venturing past waistbands, arms around necks.

She was then sat on something hard and solid, still kissing but had her legs wrapped around Emily's waist, pulling her closer. She stopped to drink a few more shots until the night became a blur of kissing, urgent hands, and thumping music. Dark, with coloured lights around her.

She was outside, sat on a wooden seat watching Emily smoke, blowing air up into the cold February night. Her hand stroked Emily's thigh up and down. She took the cigarette off Emily and took a drag. She staggered to the toilet before having more beer. She was pressed up against the wall kissing again, she bit Emily's neck, more shots, singing, dancing, talking, laughing...

Everything was a blur from then on.


	7. Chapter 7

Clara woke up the next day, in her own bed, with no recollection of how she got home, how she got into bed or what had happened the previous night.

She rubbed her eyes, checking her phone, it was on the bedside table. 17.23. 17.23?! How had she just lost the whole of Sunday? She had to be up in just over twelve hours to go to work tomorrow. She buried her head in the pillow.

There was a message from Emily, sent at 16.30.

: I really enjoyed myself last night, you are amazing ;-) Hope you get back home ok, I'll see you on Tuesday after work. X

Hang on. She didn't remember any of this. Did Emily come back here? No, the message said she'd been with her. The last thing she remembered was being at the bar. She was also still fully dressed, minus the shoes and coat. She was wearing a dark blue woollen jumper. Where was her black and red shirt? She also calculated it would have taken at least an hour to get back from Whitechapel however she'd gone, by bus, tube or cab.

What the hell was going on? She had definitely been asleep for a while. She texted Emily.

: I'm at home. I had a good night last night too, remind me what we are doing on Tuesday? X

: I'm meeting you at work to take you round the exhibition. Then you are coming straight back here. That's why I said, don't make any plans for Wednesday morning lol

When had this been arranged? She did not remember this at all. She stood up and immediately felt a large headache. She ventured to the kitchen to get paracetamol, aspirin, coffee, tea, anything. Anything she could lay her hands on. This did not make any sense.

: I'm working on Wednesday morning.

: Yes, I know, you're staying here on Tuesday night.

What? When was she making plans to stay over with people she barely even knew?

: When did we agree that?

: This morning, over breakfast.

Ok, she definitely had not been for breakfast, her stomach was growling intensely.

: Remind me what happened last night, after we left the club

: Is that what happens when you're 30? Delayed memory loss hangover? You said that might happen. Lol

: I need you to remind me

: well, we left at about 2am, walked back to mine and I shouldn't have to remind you what we were doing after that... mmmm

"Oh god," said Clara out loud. She had a shower and got dressed into something comfortable. Her headache began to subside.

: Was I drunk?

: Not really. You were surprisingly coherent after we left the club.

Clara thought to herself. There was a question she needed to ask for her own sake.

: Was I at least any good? I usually pass out when I'm drunk.

It was a few minutes before a reply came.

: No you were fucking rubbish lol

Clara laughed, now she was getting somewhere

: Sounds like me when I'm drunk. I'm so sorry.

: No need to apologise really.I cannot wait for Tuesday. I wish I wasn't working late tomorrow. :-(

: Did I leave my shirt at yours, by the way?

: No...? You definitely left wearing it.

Strange, why would she be wearing a jumper right now?

: Oh. Must be here somewhere then.

: I need to get some sleep, someone kept me awake.

Why could she not remember a thing? It was really annoying.

: Ok then.

: I'll talk to you later, thanks for an amazing night. X

Clara was still none the wiser as to what had happened. She should have listened to Future Clara about not getting so drunk.

Tuesday rolled around slowly. Clara hadn't heard from the Doctor since he'd gone to the bar on Saturday to hand her the note.

Yesterday, Monday, had been a mess of confusion, excitement and dirty messages. Clara just wished she could remember what had happened. They'd obviously had sex, judging by some of the things Emily was saying to her. She'd check her phone between each lesson, almost craving a reply, blushing and then hoping the kids didn't see.

Tuesday morning came and she carried a slightly larger bag than normal into work and hoped no one would notice she was hiding clothes to stay overnight. She was distracted for most of the day, looking out of the window, begging for this day to be over. The messages they were sending each other were getting progressively worse, to the point of her having to disappear into the staff toilets even to just read a message for fear of anyone else seeing what she was replying.

In her last lesson, the kids started noticing the bright smile on her face. She had put on a video of The Mayor Of Casterbridge hoping this would require minimal effort from her and distract them. It didn't. She sat behind her desk and lazily marked some books to pass the time, every second of the clock at the back of the room seemed to drag achingly.

"Miss!" Courtney Woods said, after the video had been on for five minutes. She was still annoying, even in Year 10.

"Watch the video Courtney," Clara said, ignoring her.

"But Miss!" Courtney said louder.

"If you want the toilet just go," she waved at her. "I really don't mind."

"Why are you smiling, Miss?"

"Watch the video," she said dismissively. "I'm marking"

"You look happy, Miss. That's all."

"Thank you Courtney," she raised her head to acknowledge her with a nod, pointing at the screen, "watch the video."

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She instinctively put her hand to her trousers but stopped herself as the entire class was facing her. She managed five minutes before excusing herself quietly through the door, walking a few paces out of sight and looking at the text.

"What the hell..." she exclaimed whilst reading it, blushing heavily, laughing to herself, she typed a suitable reply.

: I might just let you do that later. I'm in the middle of teaching, don't send me things like that!

She could hear the kids already beginning to get roudy through the window, putting her phone back in her pocket. She walked back into their vision, opened the door to find them still chatting.

"What's," she said, glaring around the room, closing the door behind her, "more entertaining than Thomas Hardy?"

"Miss, why are you blushing?" laughed Courtney, illiciting sniggers from the rest of the class.

"I am not," she said, trying to lie. She sat down at the table. "Watch the video," she said as sternly as she could.

"Is it your boyfriend, miss?" Courtney was pushing her. She was used to dealing with this.

"Do I have to tell you again? Watch the video!" Clara looked at the clock. 15.30. Half an hour to suffer through.

She resumed her marking, not concentrating at all. She rattled the pen in the fingers of her right hand, daydreaming. It was safe to say this had not been one of her better lessons. Her phone vibrated again.

She blinked out of her daydream to find the whole class looking at her.

"Miss!" said Courtney.

"Yes, Courtney, what's the matter?"

"The video is all fuzzy."

"It's a video, it does that," she got up and walked to the back of the class, "it's fine, just old." She stayed at the back and risked looking at her phone whilst pretending to look out of the window into the car park.

Clara couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the message, hoping she disguised it with a cough a second later as she turned back to look at the video. Ten minutes later her phone buzzed again.

: Is that your bike? ;-)

She looked out towards the car park towards where her motorbike was parked. She moved to the next window to get a better view and saw Emily walking around it.

She opened the window, some of them turned round to look what the noise was.

"Just getting some fresh air," she wafted her face with a nearby piece of plain paper, "it's boiling in here."

"Miss, it's February, it's freezing," said Thomas, nearest the window.

"Watch the video," she said, "there's a good bit coming up."

They all turned around.

Clara leaned out of the window, looking down at Emily and waved. She waved back. Emily went to hold the handlebars of the bike, gazing up, Clara narrowed her eyes. She grabbed a marker pen from the stationery pot at the back, put down the piece of paper, scrawled in large letters 'DON'T YOU DARE!' and held it in front of her whilst standing. Emily pulled away.

Clara put her fingers up to her eyes and then pointed back at her. Clara looked at the time. 15.50. She held out the number ten with her hands and then pointed down the road. She checked there was no one watching and then blew Emily a kiss and gave her a cheeky wink.

Clara closed the window as quietly as she could, and screwed up the piece of paper as she walked back to the front, she smiled to herself.

It was 15.55 ... she went to turn off the video player.

"Right then, did anyone not learn anything today?" She looked around, "good, right then, pack up your things and be ready to leave when the bell rings."

"What were you looking at outside, miss?" said Courtney.

"Oh it looked like someone was trying to damage my motorbike," not technically a lie, "but they didn't."

"How were your drinks on Saturday, miss?" Courtney twisted the knife.

"What drinks?" Clara feigned.

"The one where you met your friends from uni?"

She was going to have to give something away, "they were good thank you."

"Did you meet your boyfriend there?"

"That... that is no business of yours," she smiled.

"What's he like, miss?"

The bell rung.

"Goodbye everyone," she said, moving her eyes towards the ceiling, smiling.

"But Miss... What's he like?"

"Now the bell has rung I'm not paid to answer your questions, go home." She smirked.

"But..."

"Come on Courtney, out you go..." she all but pushed her out of the door.

She looked at her watch, giving it a few minutes for the children to disperse, she put up the chairs, locked the windows and door and then made a swift exit from the back fire escape.

Clara managed to avoid any unwanted confrontations on the way out, and met Emily about fifty metres from the school gates. A stream of children were walking towards Old Street station. She saw Emily and straightened her green dress under her grey jumper, checking the zip of her leather jacket.

"Well, hello," said Clara, walking up behind Emily. She was wearing deep burgandy skinny jeans, cons and a blue blouse under her grey coat. Her bag was white this time.

"Hi," Emily said, turning around.

Clara went to hug her, but stopped herself due to the amount of children still about.

"Fancy seeing you here," said Clara, with a wide smile. "We need to move, I kind of just breezed out of work much earlier than I probably should have."

"Nice to see top quality teaching standards are being upheld these days," Emily smirked. They headed in the direction of the gallery, the kids were eventually beginning to thin out. She took a drag of her cigarette.

"I'm sorry?" said Clara, playfully offended.

"Hanging out of a window, texting me, warning me off your bike, bet OFSTED love all of that," Emily listed sarcastically.

"They were watching an educational video," Clara defended herself. "Anyway, shut up. I have to be back in those doors by 8am, 8.30 very latest tomorrow morning, so I am all yours for," she looked at her watch, "just over 16 hours."

"I suppose it does," Emily's eyes lit up. "That bike, that bike is really fucking sexy by the way."

"I know, isn't it?" Clara said, raising a smile. She was already starting to get butterflies.

"So how was your day?" Emily said.

"Ask me tomorrow," she said suggestively. "How was your day?"

"Only just started, can't give a judgement."

They approached the gallery, Emily finished her cigarette and threw it down a nearby drain with practiced precision. She walked in and spoke to the receptionist, and then guided Clara inside.

"So this is my part of the exhibition," said Emily, pointing to a set of eight symmetrically arranged A2 sized landscape prints. They were in thin black frames and black and white. Against the white wall they were very striking. "I mean, it's just eight prints, but still."

"This is a really big deal," said Clara, impressed.

"Thanks," Emily said, blushing.

"What's the project?" Clara said,

"Life in desolate places," said Emily.

"Oh ok, so like," she pointed at a few blades of grass emerging from the edges of a broken paving slab, "like that?"

Emily laughed, "yes."

"I already told you I know nothing about photography, don't laugh at me," she pushed her playfully. "Although I did once see the Mona Lisa in a bank vault, before I robbed it, and I did fool a group of people into thinking a wall was a door with some creative graffiti..." she trailed off, realising Emily was giving her a strange look.

"You did not steal the Mona Lisa," said Emily, as if stating an established fact. .

"Actually, no, you're right, I didn't," Clara said. "It was just there, in the room." Clara smiled to herself.

"So," said Emily, ignoring her, "this picture is one of my favourites," she said, indicating another picture.

"Why is it your favourite?" The picture was of a branch on a stack of cardboard boxes. It looked like a crack running through the centre.

"I like the composition, weather was just right that day, developed well... nothing I can specifically put my finger on," Emily sighed.

"I like this one," Clara pointed at a picture of a outstretched hand on a corrugated metal sheet.

"Thanks," she smiled. "That's Lewis, you know."

"Is it?" Clara laughed.

"We were in a warehouse in Hackney after some club night and it was like 6am the next morning and he fell on to some sheeting like that, gave me the idea."

"How interesting," Clara said, "never would have known!"

"Of course the story I told my tutor is slightly different," she laughed.

"Yeah I'll bet," Clara smiled. "Where did you take this one?" she pointed to the one with a branch.

"Near Mile End," Emily said. "Do you think they work together?"

Clara stood back, "well, they all look like trees from a distance."

Emily laughed.

"What?" Clara said, confused.

"That's what they are supposed to be," Emily smiled. "Glad you noticed."

"Must be the expert help of the artist," Clara said.

"Well, since I clearly have nothing left to teach you about photography, I think we're about done here." Emily looked at her phone inside her bag. "I make it fifteen hours now."

"What's the quickest way back to yours?" Clara said, quite directly even for her, raising an eyebrow.


	8. Chapter 8

Clara followed Emily towards the Overground station. She found herself unusually unable to start more than general small talk with Emily as she got a nervous lump in the back of her throat.

Once they were on the train, Clara could feel her heart beating out of her chest as, leaning up against the padded ledge, Emily put her arm around Clara's waist, tilting her head towards Clara's ear as if to talk into it, instead kissing her gently on the neck.

She looked up to the ceiling. "How long until we get there?" said Clara, half gulping.

"About ten minutes," said Emily, "and then the same to walk." Emily looked at her, smiling.

"I see," said Clara. Something else then occurred to her. "Will there be anyone else in?" As she lived alone it wasn't something she usually had to worry about.

"Shouldn't be right now, Steve and Rachel work late, Katya we hardly ever see as she is at her boyfriend's most nights, Deep works nights. Lewis... well he might be in. I hope for your sake he's not," she said.

"Why?" asked Clara.

"Umm..." Emily blushed.

"What?" said Clara, narrowing her eyes, curious.

"Apparently we were... umm..." she lowered her voice, "a little loud the other night."

"Oh..." she half smiled, "I still don't remember anything."

"Correct answer," said Emily. "And he still insists on calling you Carla."

Clara laughed, "it's a personal thing we've got."

The train arrived at Whitechapel, Emily lead Clara through the streets with that familiar gentle tight grip covering her left hand. It was beginning to start getting dark around them as they approached Emily's flat. Clara's stomach was a bag full of nerves.

As soon as they were inside, Clara felt an overwhelming urge to kiss Emily, pouncing before she had a chance to walk upstairs. They kissed briefly before Emily pulled away smiling, "not here," before disappearing up the stairs.

Clara followed her, seeing the three flights of stairs becoming higher than a skyscraper in her head, neverending. The flat door was open, she went in and suddenly found herself pressed backwards, Emily kissing her deeply.

After a few minutes Clara straightened herself up off the door and removed Emily's coat, throwing it away onto the floor. She pushed her backwards towards the back of the nearby sofa, quickly removing her own leather jacket and dropping it behind her.

"Oh I liked the jacket," laughed Emily, feigning disappointment, looking down at it.

"Shut up," Clara said, realising how northern she sounded.

"Yes, miss," Emily said, smirking, clearly goading her.

"I must have told you not to do that the other night," Clara narrowed her eyes at her.

"Yes you did," she said, laughing. "But it is so easy to wind you up."

Clara folded her arms and looked away playfully.

Emily raised her eyebrow, simply walking off from Clara in the direction of the bedroom.

Clara inhaled deeply before following Emily, arms still folded, about a minute later. She paused before opening the door, a mixture of nerves, excitement and fear of the unknown. She still couldn't remember a thing about the other night.

"And what do you think you are doing just storming off in here?" she said playfully, closing the door behind her, leaning back against it.

"I couldn't wait, kind of on the clock here, going by last time," Emily said. "And besides, no lesbianism outside etc."

"I still cannot remember anything," said Clara, sighing. "I wish I could."

'Maybe I could remind you..." said Emily, walking up to her. "For someone who, in your own words, didn't know how to do all of this," Emily pointed between then, "you were surprisingly..." she searched for the right word, "proactive."

"I was?" said Clara, incredulous, raising an eyebrow. "No..." Clara said shaking her head. "Really?"

"Yes," said Emily, watching her reaction. "For a straight girl you were very good."

Clara blushed, "thanks. Straight enough to end up in your bedroom for the second time in four, no three days?"

Emily laughed, "yes." Emily went to kiss her, Clara suddenly found herself returning the attention, nervous inside about what was going to happen. She felt that familiar feeling of wanting to kiss deeper, touch every part of Emily that she could and remove everything she was wearing as quickly as possible.

Emily moved first, removing Clara's grey jumper as far as she could without breaking the kiss, reinstating it the second she was able to.

Clara went for Emily's blue shirt, unbuttoning it from the top down as quickly as she could whilst distracted, eventually managing to pull it off and drop it to the floor. Her hands felt across the newly exposed soft skin of Emily's arms, neck and shoulders.

Clara felt Emily touch her neck at the back, searching for the buttons to undo her dress, locating them at the front and unfastening them one by one until it was pushed to the floor in one motion, leaving just her bra. Clara pulled off Emily's various vest tops and felt cool yet hot skin touch her body and was just finishing unbuttoning her trousers when pushed her onto the bed unexpectedly.

This was all very new and very exciting whilst sober, as the kiss continued to get more urgent, biting lips and tongues exploring.

Clara kicked her boots off, removing her tights as she helped Emily remove her trousers until just underwear remained. Clara inhaled deeply as Emily clambered on top of her, she could feel herself shaking with nerves. Emily ran her hands through her hair and Clara swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Do you really not remember anything about the other night?" Emily stroked her cheek, moving some hair from Clara's face.

Clara shook her head. Emily screwed up her mouth, looking at her with wide eyes as she stroked her cheek. Clara pulled Emily towards her for a slow kiss, weaving her hands through her hair.

Emily laughed as she kissed her. Emily moved to kiss her neck, before moving to whisper in Clara's ear.

"Let me remind you," Emily said as Clara swallowed hard, closing her eyes, "it was my go anyway, you had your turn the other night." Unlikely, Clara thought, she wouldn't have known where to begin. But she was drunk... she shook her head to concentrate on what was happening now.

Clara closed her eyes as Emily took over. Emily removed her own underwear and Clara's easily before carrying on. She wasn't able to get any words out from the back of her throat, eyes firmly closed. Emily laughed at her, knowing the effect she was having.

The next few hours were a blur of kissing, touching, shouting, laughing, relentless in its pursuit of pleasure. They were interrupted by a loud bang on the door a few times. Clara lost track of the time and eventually fell into a sleep entangled up with her.

"Fuck!" shouted Clara muffled through a pillow as she woke up and looked at the time on the alarm clock near the bed.

Emily barely roused to her left, simply turning over, completey naked, ignoring her.

"Fuck!" she shouted louder, realising it was 8.45am. She put her head firmly into the pillow.

"What's the matter?" Emily mumbled sleepily.

"I needed to be at work fifteen minutes ago, fuck!" Clara got up and starting collecting her clothes, realising her bag and more importantly her alarm on her phone were in the other room. "Fuck's sake, what is wrong with me?! I have never been late."

Emily woke up slightly, raising a snigger at her.

"Don't you laugh at me, it is not funny!" she barked. Clara tried to find something to cover herself with so she could go out and retrieve her things, she found a shirt dress on the floor of Emily's, which she put on quickly before going into the other room. She found her bag and coat still on the floor where she had left them last night, and found Lewis lying on the sofa, looking at his mobile phone.

"Good morning Carla," he laughed at her, "what the devil are you doing here?"

Clara blushed heavily, knowing he already knew the answer.

"Umm, I- I-," she stuttered, not ready for a conversation like this right now. "I am very late," she got out.

"Aren't you a teacher?" he said, looking at his watch with a glint in his eye.

"Yes," said Clara, collecting her jacket and bag, walking back towards the kitchen and Emily's room.

"Whoops," he said sarcastically at her.

"Yeah, tell me about it," she muttered to herself, going back into Emily's room. Emily had fallen back asleep, Clara sat down on the bed and woke her, resigned to the fact she was going to be very late. "Do you have a towel I can use?" she said to Emily. "And where is the bathroom?"

Emily still had her eyes closed as she pointed at the wardrobe. "Last door on the right," she mumbled.

Clara took the first towel she saw and took it and her bag towards the bathroom, moving as quickly as she could. She got to the bathroom and tried the door, it was locked.

"Oh no, no, no, no," she sighed, remembering why she hated living with people so much, banging her forehead onto the glazed door. She could hear the shower going inside, and then heard a male voice coming from inside.

"It's alright Carla, I'll only be another half hour or so." Lewis laughed, taunting her. She banged heavily on the door with her fist, annoyed. She pulled out her phone, expecting to see a barrage of messages and texts but instead seeing nothing. It was 09.02. She needed to call Linda, there was no way to recover this.

She went back to Emily's room, sat on the bed, putting her head in her hands and dialled the contact number. This was going to be awkward. Especially as the whole Secret Santa situation from two years earlier had yet to be fully resolved.

"Good Morning, Coal Hill School secretary's office. Linda speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hi Linda," she said, more than a little bit sheepishly, "it's Clara, err, Miss Oswald."

"Good morning, Miss Oswald, it was a rough night wasn't it?" Linda replied, "is this about the photocopying you asked me to do about fifteen minutes ago?" she sneered. "Give me a chance."

"Umm, what?" Hang on, how was she at school right now?

"I told you it's not really my job. Surely even you can press a green button on a machine yourself. What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing, just one of the parents wanted to know when parents evening was to get time off work, I couldn't remember."

"Forgotten how to use your computer as well? I'll print you off the sheets and give it to you with the copies later."

"Thanks Linda, that would be great,"

"Anything else?" Linda snapped.

"No," Clara said, there was something she needed to know, "Oh hang on. What do you think of what I'm wearing today?"

"That red thing with all the eyes on it? Makes me feel very uneasy. Quite a bit of VPL in those jeans. Shoes don't match. Wouldn't want to offend you, though."

"Thanks for your... honesty." Bitch.

"You've got work to do Miss Oswald."

Linda slammed the phone down. This was a very unexpected, yet welcome, turn of events, she laughed to herself, a message on her phone appeared.

: Go back to bed, take the day off. You owe me one.

Clara laughed, there was no way she would let herself be late for work and do the walk of shame. This was now officially a problem for Future Clara to deal with.

"Have you just called in sick?" said Emily, now awake, sitting up behind her.

"Well, it appears I do not need to go to work today," Clara laughed, turning to face Emily.

"Is that even allowed?" Emily asked, raising an eyebrow, pulling Clara towards her.

"No, I'd imagine it's not," shaking her head with a wide smile. "The secretary really does hate me."

"Why?"

"She thinks I gave her a packet of Tena Lady for Secret Santa Christmas before last."

"And did you?" Emily raised an eyebrow.

"No!" said Clara, offended, "of course I didn't."

"Did you ever find out who did?"

"No, I am 99% sure it was Sonia from Textiles, though. Seriously, what sort of subject is that?" she laughed.

"Better make the most of it today then," Emily said, as she moving Clara to straddle her.

"Are you working today?" Clara asked before running a trail of kisses down Emily's neck.

"I've got a shift at the bar, starts at 2pm," said Emily, sighing heavily, removing her dress off Clara. "I need to turn up, though, can't just call in sick like you," she breathed.

"I didn't say I'd called in sick," Clara said, trailing a finger down Emily's chestbone. "I guess you could say someone is covering for me, they owe me a favour."

"What?" said Emily, pulling away from her. "Can you do that?"

"Today apparently yes," Clara said, running her hand over Emily's shoulders, "and I am not complaining."

Clara pinned Emily down to the bed and went in for a deep kiss, before Emily moved to wrestle her over.

The door opened suddenly, making them both jump and scrabble for covers, embarrassed.

"Fuck's sake Em, put it away! Shower's free now Carla," Lewis said, not moving.

"You bastard, fuck off!" Emily shouted, throwing a pillow square at him, just catching the back of the door as he used it to shield himself.

"You know, you're right, she does have great tits," he laughed, still not moving. "Almost, but still not quite, enough to turn me straight."

"Excuse me?! Do you mind?! I am here you know," Clara said, offended, also getting irritated by him now, blushing.

"Lewis, I swear, if you do not close that door right now I am going to fucking slap you so hard you'll... you'll..." Emily paused.

"Regenerate?" Clara offered, under her breath, hiding herself under the covers, remembering one of the last times she felt angry.

"Yeah... so hard you'll regenerate." Emily paused, "regenerate? as what?" she said quietly, now realising how ridiculous that sounded.

"Look I'm sorry, OK, I was just coming in to tell Carla-"

"Clara!" Clara said, deciding she was not tolerating it any more. "It is Clara, OK? Not Clare, not Carla... Clara!"

"Shove it up your ballsack!" Emily shouted.

Clara couldn't help but laugh to herself.

"Shut up," Emily glared at her, playfully smiling and pushing her under the covers.

"Ok, I'm leaving," he said, closing the door.

"I really need to get a lock," Emily sighed.

"I'm sorry, but" Clara smiled, she impersonated Emily as much as possible, "shove it up your ballsack?"

"Yes?" said Emily, smiling.

"I've heard some creative insults, but, impressive."

"You know, I once told my mum to shove it up her tits," she laughed.

"Really?" Clara smirked.

"Totally justifiable in the circumstances, I mean, she was offering me £1000 to leave my girlfriend at the time... bitch," Emily laughed softly.

"Shove it up your tits," Clara laughed, "I might try that next time. Oh yeah, and... great tits? What do you think I am? A piece of meat?" Clara narrowed her eyes.

"Sorry about that," Emily smirked. She was clearly not sorry.

"I'm not sure that's a good enough apology," Clara sighed, shaking her head.

"Oh really?" said Emily, before pouncing onto Clara.


	9. Chapter 9

Clara left Emily's flat just before 2pm, heading towards Whitechapel station. They'd spent the morning having more sex, including once in the shower whilst getting ready. The thought of what she'd been doing for the last twenty four hours made her giggle uncontrollably, it had taken her breath away. She was tired, having run on adrenaline this morning, just wanting to go home and sleep for the rest of the day. She felt like she had a hangover.

As she walked to the station she heard the familiar whooshing of the TARDIS behind her. The Doctor. He was here.

Clara turned around to see the TARDIS twenty metres behind her. The Doctor strolled out to meet her.

"Oh Clara, there you are!" he said. "I've been trying to ring you..." he trailed off. He stopped as he came close to her, sniffing the air. "You've washed. It's a different smell to normal. Not sure I like it."

"Hello Doctor, I'm good thank you, how are you?" she smiled and ignored him, breezing past into the TARDIS. "Where are you taking me today then?" The Doctor followed her, shutting the door behind him. He paced towards the central console, pulling his eyes close to hers. "What?" she said.

"What's this?" he drew imaginary circles around her eyes.

"What's what?

"This," he pointed at her.

"Last time I checked this, or rather these," she pointed at herself, "were my eyes."

"What's this light in them? How did you put that in there?" He put on the sonic sunglasses and begun scanning her with them.

"Doctor! Stop it! I've told you that I don't like you scanning me!" She removed the sunglasses and put them away from him.

"But how did you get the light inside your eyes? Have you changed the refractive or reflective index of your retinas? Or the colour? Are you wearing contact lenses?"

"I haven't done anything to my eyes," she sighed as he circled her.

"Or is it? No, it can't be, it can't possibly be that," he strode away from her, laughing.

"What?" Clara said, suddenly feeling worried he'd noticed she had post-sex glow.

"Happy," he shook his head, "but no, the last time I checked you were female, so you can't be that. No, seriously, turn off your eyes, it's affecting the ambience in here."

"I can't turn off my eyes," she said matter-of-factly looking away, smiling, breathing a small sigh of relief.

"And the smiling, why are you smiling?" he said. "It really doesn't suit you. We've had this discussion before."

"So what if I am happy?" she said. "Am I not allowed to be happy once in a while for no particular reason?"

"Of course you are," he talked at her, "but the eyes and the smiling at the same time. No no no, Clara. I don't like it. Makes me feel nauseous."

"Shut up," she dismissed him, "so where are you taking me today?"

"Well, that's just the thing," he smiled at her. "I have it on reasonable authority that you didn't turn up for work today because you knew were going in... in the future."

"What are you talking about?" said Clara, feigning ignorance.

"My ancestors spent millennia building this machine, and when they finished it they said to themselves, great, well now at least Clara Oswald can pull a sickie in 2016 because she slept in after a late night."

"What?" said Clara, blushing, shocked. "How do you know that?"

"Well, what else would you be doing wandering around at 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon over a mile away from your school." He smiled a wide, fake grin at her. "You don't even need to be a Time Lord to figure that is just wrong, just a reasonable ability to look at a watch, a calendar and a map. All basic life skills. What if someone had seen you? I get that you want a lie in Clara, I do, but you can't simply not turn up for work and expect that you can just rock up sometime in the future and do your day."

"I- I- mistakenly went to bed and forgot to set my alarm," she muttered, annoyed, crossing her arms.

"That's better, now you've sorted out the smile thing."

"I had a very long night..." she trailed off, "I really want to go home to bed and sleep. Or borrow one of your patches."

"I can tell, you've lost weight-"

"Have I?" she looked at him, raising an eyebrow, raising a half smile. "Thank you."

"No. Yes, No, Well, I mean, a few micro-grams, it's not visible externally-"

"Oh," Clara said, disappointed.

"I can't just let you not turn up for work, do you not have any standards? What about the children? How will they get to know the wrong year that Jane Austen wrote her books?"

"Shut up," she said. He'd never let her forget that.

"I mean, I even took you to meet her afterwards so that you could get your information, for lack of a better phrase, from the horse's mouth-"

"Don't call Jane a horse!" she snapped.

"Oooh yes, I forgot, a touchy subject, after she attacked you."

"Attacked me?" said Clara, incredulous. "Jane Austen did not attack me!"

"From a distance it certainly looked like she did," the Doctor, he pointed at his neck, momentarily confused, "then why was she biting your mouth and neck?"

"That wasn't biting," said Clara, sighing.

"Well, she certainly wasn't being friendly," he frowned.

"Yes, she was," Clara laughed.

"There you go, you're doing it again," he pointed at her, "that look."

"What look?"

"Is Jane Austen here? How has she turned up in Whitechapel in 2016? Oh wait, don't tell me, she turns out to be Jack the Ripper?" He was making fun of her.

"No, she's not." Clara wandered off down the TARDIS stairs in search of a sleep patch.

"Clara, I've hidden the dream patches, no use looking for them." He went to the console and pulled the large lever to move the TARDIS.

"Ok, so this stop better be my flat, specifically the bedroom." Clara said flippantly. "And not in that way, before you get any ideas."

"Afraid not," the Doctor said, striding towards the door. "I can't have you taking hangover days whenever you feel like it because you've been up all night canoodling-"

"Canoodling?! Who said I was canoodling?!" Clara exclaimed, "I was not canoodling!" she lied, quieter, blushing, folding her arms, screwing up her face.

"-or something trivial like you forgot to set your alarm, I may not have a current teaching qualification like you, although," he paused, "I taught a lesson on Physics once. The chips were nice, laced with a chemical that made everyone good at maths. Oh yes, and I worked in a school-"

"You were a caretaker. You wore a different jacket. In no universe does that qualify you as a teacher," she interrupted, "show me twenty thousand pounds worth of debt, show me a three year English degree, show me a year's worth of PGCE and show me two years worth of supervised lessons, constant gossiping about you behind your back, seeing graffiti on toilet doors about you and various other teachers and students, male, female, inanimate objects, constant marking, dealing with parents, and constant Facebook friend requests, and OFSTED. Show me all of that, then maybe I'll believe you."

The Doctor opened the TARDIS door and stood in the entrance looking at her. "Are you sure you do English? Based on that performance I would have said Drama was more your forte. Would account for your lack of detail about Jane Austen, wouldn't it?" He turned around and walked outside.

"Doctor," she shouted after him, initially standing her ground in the TARDIS, folding her arms.

After a minute she followed the Doctor into a car park, finding him suddenly behind her, blocking the door to the TARDIS.

"Err, where are we?" Clara said, looking around, not amused.

"Don't you recognise it?" the Doctor held his arms out.

"No, should I? Clara said, impatient now. "Let me rephrase that question, Doctor, why am I in an empty car park?"

"No, Clara, this is the lesson I was talking about."

"I already know how to drive thanks," Clara said, "don't need you helping me to park in a battered 80s Ford Mondeo."

"Your parking is abysmal at very best," he said under his breath.

"Just tell me why I am in a car park, it's freezing and I'd like to go home to bed."

The Doctor went back inside, "I'll pick you up tomorrow." He slammed the door. She immediately ran to the TARDIS door, finding it dematerialising before she got there. As it faded away she realised where she was.

Her school. He'd dropped her off at her school. At 6am that morning. Her motorbike was parked up outside. She waited for two hours, sat on the top step outside the building in the freezing cold for the caretaker to arrive.

"Bit early for you, love, isn't it?" Barry said as he unlocked the main door. "You don't have to break in, you know," he laughed at her.

"Yeah, something like that," she sighed.

It was fair to say she was fuming by the time she got to the staff room to make herself a cup of coffee at 8.15am. She was beginning to wonder whether the previous night was worth it, being awake for almost 30 hours with about three hours sleep, near hypothermic and emotionally exhausted. And a full day at work ahead of her. She hated the Doctor.

"Rough night was it, Miss Oswald?" Linda said, smirking at her, as she brought around the morning briefing. "On a Tuesday night as well?"

Clara narrowed her eyes and sipped carefuly at her coffee, ignoring her, taking the sheet of paper.

"Left your bike here overnight too," Linda laughed at her and then disappeared off around the rest of the staff. Whilst she read the sheet she remembered the conversation she'd had with Linda earlier that morning, well, in about half an hour now. She looked around for something useless for her to photocopy for her. She shuffled slowly to her pigeon hole and put all of the last two weeks briefings into a nearby discarded beige paper folder. She saw Linda glance towards her from the other side of the room, pointing, deciding to bide her time until she walked past her.

"Good Morning everyone," Mr Coburn, the headteacher walked in at 8.30, "we have some rather urgent business to deal with this morning. I have just had a heads up from a friend at the local authority that we will be getting a surprise OFSTED inspection at 0900 this morning." There were loud groans around the room. Clara continued to sip her coffee, thinking if her day could get any worse. She hoped they would get English out of the way first, seeing as it was a core subject. "The provisional timetable will see the first part of the day observing arts and humanities and... maths. Then we will move onto science, language and finally English for the last hour. Clara, as our longest serving English teacher I have allocated a full observation of your last class, 10B." Courtney Woods et al.

"Great," said Clara to herself sarcastically, taking a large gulp of coffee as there were whistles and jeering around the room. "Thank you Bill," she said out loud.

"Good luck with that," Adrian, stood next to her, said as an aside, laughing.

"Right everyone, that's it, off you go." The staff dispersed, and Bill walked over to her, she tried to find Linda to get the photocopies done, to avoid him.

"Clara, are you alright? You look a bit... peaky?"

"Yes, I am fine, might be coming down with something, but I am ready and raring to go," she said with as much energy and as little sarcasm as she could muster.

"I don't need to stress to you how important this inspection is for our LEA ranking, English didn't perform especially well last time." She remembered, someone had been accidentally on purpose stabbed through the hand with a sharpened pencil during a reenactment of a scene in Macbeth. Thankfully not her class. "So I am really counting on you as the most established member of staff in the department, don't let me down, OK?" This was of course a lie, she was the longest serving member of the English department, but was certainly not the most experienced. She heard what he said as, if they are male inspectors, you will be perfect to distract them.

"Of course Bill." She smiled sweetly. "Oh, Linda," she said as she walked past, "could you please print me 30 copies of each of these in this folder by last lesson, I need to prepare for my session later."

"I don't do photocopying," Linda narrowed her eyes. "You know that."

"I'm sure we can make an exception, under the circumstances," Bill said to Linda, putting an unwanted hand on Clara's shoulder, "can't we?"

"Just this once, Bill," Linda snatched the file from her hand as Bill walked off.

"I'm watching you," said Linda. "I still know it was you," she said under her breath.

"I'm watching you," Clara said, "with all my eyes," an oblique reference to the red top she was wearing. "I need those photocopies asap. Thanks."

She turned away quickly, going to make herself another coffee, swearing inwardly to herself. She walked to her class with the cup, so strong she was almost inhaling caffeine. She had thought yesterday was the nadir of her teaching career thus far, but could imagine herself surpassing that quickly and easily today. An OFSTED inspection, of all the days. She quickly remembered she needed to text herself, typing a suitably sarcastic text. She laughed at past Clara's naivety, hoping she'd enjoy her day of sex before quite possibly one of the worst professional days she would endure.

: Go back to bed, take the day off. You owe me one.

She set it to send in ten minutes as she went into the year 8 registration class, taking a deep breath.

"Miss, that coffee is like well strong issit!" said Jamal at the back. "Like Mr Starbucks is in here or something, has you brought coffees for everyone?" He high fived the others sat next to him. If they had already started, OFSTED held no hope for her.

"Miss, are you ill? You look like you have been up all night," said Jennifer. "Have you been up all night Miss?" Try 32 hours. There were jeers around the classroom.

"Alright, alright, settle down," she said sternly, "I'm not feeling too great this morning, hence the coffee." Understatement if ever she heard one.

"What are you ill with miss?" said Jennifer. It was at this point she wished the LEA approved of trapdoors under seats.

"Is it your time of the month, miss?" Callum at the back asked, inducing staggered laughter.

She really couldn't be bothered to deal with this right now. "Not that my menstrual cycle is any business of yours Callum, but no, it's not."

"Is you pregnant, miss?" Jamal volunteered.

"I am not pregnant, thank you Jamal."

"I know this girl in year 10 who has a locker full of pregnancy tests if you want one?" Jamal said.

Clara knew the correct response to this question should have been, "Who?" but couldn't be bothered, knowing she wouldn't get an answer, "No, but thank you Jamal. Please don't mention that to anyone for the rest of the day. Is there anyone missing?" She checked through the list, everyone was there. "Right, amuse yourselves quietly for the next fifteen minutes, let me drink my coffee and wake up a bit."

"She was up all night!" Callum shouted, to whistles.

"Settle down, all of you." Clara was beginning to get a headache and it was only 9.10.

"Who's your new boyfriend, miss? Who does he look like?" Jennifer said.

"I do not have a new boyfriend," Clara stated.

"Courtney Woods says you do, that you were hanging out of a window talking to him during a lesson yesterday," Jennifer said. She had been so close to getting away with it.

"I was trying to distract someone from stealing my motorbike," Clara said, "if you really must know."

"Can I have your bike if you die, miss?" said Callum.

"Who says I'm dying?" said Clara to him. "And no."

"You do look like you are going to, miss," Jennifer piped up.

"Thank you, all of you, I am fine, not dying," Clara announced. "Also not pregnant. 100% not pregnant." It would be an immaculate conception if she were, it had been four months since she'd last had sex with a man.

The bell rang, and suddenly with another place to be they all left her alone, piling out.

She put her head in her hands and leaned over the table, this was going to be a very long day.

Every lesson she taught was the same today, she really couldn't be bothered to rise to the ridicule. At lunch time she went and sat in the staff toilets, cradling her head, nursing a strong headache that was not subsiding despite painkillers between each lesson. She'd been awake for 38 hours.

It was 12.15. She looked at herself in the mirror, pale and tired. She hadn't even been drinking last night.

"I can't do this, I can't do this," she said, banging her head against the wall, before Ella from Maths 8F came in and gave her a strange look.

"I hope whatever you were up to last night was worth it," Ella said as she walked past into the cubicle. Clara fixed her makeup with a tissue.

Was it? Had it really been worth it? She smirked at herself in the mirror, remembering what she'd been doing overnight and this morning. Technically she was still having sex right now. Of course it was worth it. And this was the first time Ella had talked to her since the night of the work party.

"I'm just tired," she said. "Long night, not been sleeping lately."

Ella appeared from the cubicle behind her. "Come off it, Clara, I know that look."

"And what look is that?" Clara said, still gazing in the mirror.

"The same look you had the afternoon you crawled out of my house without so much as a goodbye." Ella washed her hands.

Clara was not equipped to deal with this right now. "I don't remember..." she paused, "anything about that night."

"I do," she sighed. "I can't say I'm not jealous."

"What?" Clara said, today was not the day for another female teacher to come on to her. "Why- why would you be jealous?"

"I'd be more than happy to refresh your memory," Ella said, putting a hand on Clara's back. "At mine over dinner."

Clara was confused, annoyed and tired. Was she giving off some sort of weird lesbian pheromone now she'd gone the full distance with a woman? "Err... what the hell are you doing?" she said, "nothing happened that night, I got very very drunk and then I went home the next day."

"My garden, staircase and bedroom say otherwise..." Ella trailed her hand down to Clara's rear.

"What the fuck?" she exclaimed, uncharacteristically swearing. "That did not happen." She was not going to deal with this today as well as everything else. "Get your hand off me," she narrowed her eyes at Ella in the mirror.

"Didn't it?" Ella said, taking her hand away, letting the statement hang in the air.

Clara turned around to look at her, leaning on the basin. "No," she said firmly. "It didn't. I am not like that." She half lied, did having sex with a woman qualify her?

"Yes it did. Maybe you aren't, but when it all falls through with whatever her name is, let me know," she went to leave, but stopped herself, "or I can just show you the photos." Ella walked off before Clara could react.

"Photos! Seriously?!" Clara groaned loudly, "well, that's just great," returning to cradle her head. She made a mental note to never go to the Maths department ever again.

She felt better after food, thankfully finding an empty table to quickly have a large plate of chips. The diet could wait, chips were the only food they had that would even remotely help her.

The next lesson she managed to blag the tv and video from Adrian to give her time to write some vague notes on the impromptu Thomas Hardy lecture she was due to give. The Year 7s were distracted watching Romeo and Juliet until about five minutes before the end.

"Miss, are you going to die? Like Julie?" Freddie said.

"Juilet," she corrected. "Why do you think I'm going to die?"

"People are saying you are dying today."

"Who is saying that?" Clara said.

"The year nines, miss," Freddie said, "please don't die." He looked genuinely upset.

"I am not planning to die today," she laughed. "I was a bit unwell this morning, but I'm ok now," she said. She had well and truly run through The Wall.

"Do you have a boyfriend, miss?" Ashia asked. "Like Romeo?"

She sighed, "no I don't, but if I did he'd have much better dress sense." The class laughed. She enjoyed teaching the Year 7 kids, they were so innocent.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend, miss?" asked Aisha.

To be fair that was a good question. "I'm not looking for one at the moment," not technically a lie. Between the Doctor and whatever was now going on with her and Emily she was going to have no time.

"There are plenty of boys here who want to be your boyfriend, miss."

"I'm sure there are," she said, blushing, used to this, it was a daily occurrence. "But I can't have a boyfriend who is at school."

"Why?" Aisha said.

"I would lose my job, as it's illegal," Clara said, beginning to feel her headache reappearing.

"What's illegal?" asked Thomas.

"It means against the law," Clara answered.

"It's not illegal to have a boyfriend, miss." Aisha said.

"No it's not," she clarified, "but it is if you teach them at a school. Besides, I'd want a boyfriend who was the same age as me."

"My dad is 40 and looking for a new girlfriend," said Thomas.

She'd met his dad. Absolutely not. "I'm not quite that old, but thank you, Thomas, I'll discuss it with him at the next parents evening."

The bell rang. The kids piled out, conversation forgotten. 14.50. One more lesson. She could do it.

She fished in her bag for a couple of ibuprofen and knocked them back, going to get another coffee from the department kitchen.

Clara returned to her classroom with her cup to find the Bill and a middle aged man waiting for her.

"Ahhh, hello Clara, this is Paul, he'll be observing your class today." Clara shook his outstretched hand. "I'll leave you to it." He made a swift exit, looking at her smiling through the window outside as he walked away. Paul grinned at her, he was clearly her target audience, and also no wedding ring.

"I hope you are ready for an hour on Thomas Hardy," she said confidently.

"I am. A particular favourite of mine, I did my postgraduate dissertation on his works."

"Great," she said smiling falsely. "Of course you did."

"Don't mind me, I'll just sit at the back." Paul pulled up a chair at the back.

"Just give me a minute," Clara said, disappearing off to Adrian's classroom to print off Thomas Hardy's Wikipedia one sheet.


	10. Chapter 10

It was 16.30. Clara was sat with her head on her arms on her desk not moving, she hadn't stirred for the last twenty minutes after saying goodbye to Paul.

"Clara!" said Adrian, walking up to her and shaking her shoulder, "are you coming for a drink? Cheeky mid-week pint?"

"No," Clara groaned, not moving.

"Come on Clara, it wasn't that bad," Adrian said, "at least no-one got stabbed."

Clara raised her head up. "Hardly a benchmark to judge a lesson on, Adrian." She sighed, "I really need to get some sleep, and I need to ride home. It's been a very long day," 42 hours long to be precise.

"Ok, if you say so. What were you doing last night, anyway?" Adrian sat on the desk. "New fella is it?"

"Oh come on, not you as well," she shoved him, "the kids are bad enough, let alone you lot! You are getting no gossip from me, my lips are sealed."

Adrian paused before getting up to leave. "They blatantly were not last night," he said in a low voice, laughing, walking down the corridor.

"Goodbye Adrian," she said, annoyed.

Clara collected her things and drove home.

It could have been worse, he was right. She just wanted to forget about today and get some sleep. She'd know tomorrow how she'd done.

Clara got in and walked straight to the bedroom, she got changed and sat in the bed. She made sure an alarm was set on her phone, positioned it next to her bed. She was out like a light as soon as her head touched the pillow.

...

Clara was in the school building by 8.10, suitably recovered after 13 hours sleep, she made herself a coffee in the staff room. She looked at her phone, Emily had just texted her.

: How was your evening?

: Not as good as the morning, or the night before. ;-) What are you doing up so early?

: I'm at uni today. Busy after work?

: No plans, want to come to mine?

"See you are looking better today, Miss Oswald," Linda sneered at her, trying to look at her phone, handing her the briefing sheet.

"Good morning Linda," she smiled. "Must have been a 24 hour thing," she said brightly. "Thanks for the photocopies yesterday," she said sarcastically. She had delivered them, deliberately late, halfway during the lesson, not that it mattered as she didn't need thirty copies of briefings, she obviously hadn't bothered to check what she was photocopying. It was funny until the OFSTED inspector had asked to see the handouts after the lesson, and she had to do some emergency sleight of hand to retrieve a different worksheet from her desk.

"You're welcome," she said equally sarcastically, flouncing away from her.

: Fancy giving me a lift on your bike?

: Only got one helmet :-(

: Text me your address, I'll bring a bottle over.

: Deal, see you later. 5pm OK for you?

She sent Emily her address and smiled to herself, putting her phone away.

Bill walked in at 8.30. "Good morning, everyone." There was a mumble of acknowledgement. "As you are all fully aware, OFSTED paid a visit yesterday. I am yet to see the full report, It's due tomorrow but I am lead to believe it will be favourable. Aside from a slight issue with some stray chemicals found in Jordan Cole's locker-" there were sniggers around the room, "-I have not been made aware of anything else. Unless anyone here has anything they would like to share with the group?" There was an extended silence. "No? Ok then. Have a good day."

The teachers dispersed, Bill was walking in her direction, she had already prepared her answer.

"Hi Bill," said Clara, going on the offensive.

"Hello Clara," he said, "I was coming to find you. Glad to see you looking better today."

"How are you?" she said.

"I am very well, but what happened yesterday?"

"Look Bill, I can explain, I wasn't really expecting the inspector to be some sort of Thomas Hardy superfan, I was having a bad day, and Courtney was just really winding me up, and to be honest, -"

"Yours was the only report I didn't get back as it was the last lesson of the day, just wondered how it went."

"Oh," she said, deciding to keep the rest of her prepared answer to herself. "It was OK I suppose, I don't think anything overly untoward happened."

"Good then, well done." He strode off from her.

Clara went to her lessons, hoping the obvious flirting she had done with the inspector after the lesson had worked after she had lost the will to live with Courtney's constant questioning and almost snapped at her.

The day went past reasonably quickly, she found having had a decent amount of sleep had vastly improved her day.

...

She got back that evening to find the Doctor sat on the sofa in her living room, leafing through Heat magazine.

"You know, Clara, if this magazine is the standard of English by which your world is setting itself by, maybe there is some hope for me," he said sarcastically. "How was your day?"

Clara strolled into the living room, arms folded and eyes narrowed. Her previous anger from yesterday, bottled successfully now knew no boundaries. She stood in front of him and tore the magazine from his hands, throwing it onto the floor to her left.

"6am!" she shouted loudly, almost verging on screaming.

"I think you'll find," he turned to the clock next to him, "it's 4.55pm."

"6am!" she repeated, identical to the first time.

He looked at the clock again, "no, it's definitely 4.55, no 4.56 pm now," he turned to face her and then back at the clock, "you need to work on your basic life skills."

"6am!" she said.

"You keep on saying this, but-"

"6am yesterday," she said venomously.

"Oh what? At the school? I thought you liked being at work early?" he said.

"6am! In February, in a car park. In a locked school ground. That's dead with hypothermia." Her eyes had not lost any intensity. "Except you didn't think about that did you? Subzero temperatures for over two hours, on top of that, I was awake for over 42 hours, on top of that," she saved a large amount of volume for the last two words, "OFSTED inspection."

"Ah," he said.

"Ah?" she shouted. "Is that all you are going to say? Ah?" She was steeling herself for her next outburst.

"I didn't know about the OFSTED thing," he said, apologetically.

"Of course you didn't!" she shouted. "I hate you sometimes! So determined to teach me a lesson, oh the irony because I'm a teacher, you don't care that I could freeze to death. It wouldn't be so bad if this was the first time, but it's not! Remember you left me in Glasgow once and didn't come to see me for three weeks, I could have been dead in a ditch!" Her anger was limitless today.

"Come on Clara-"

"Don't you, come on Clara to me!" she slung back at him. She groaned loudly.

There was a knock at the door.

"I mean it's your own fault really-" the Doctor started.

"Oh right, so now it's my fault?" she shouted loudly back at him, anger creeping through her veins. "My fault that I accidentally slept in, because, you know what, it happens! Human beings do things like sleep late-"

"And hangover days and sick days?"

"It was not a hangover day," she said vociferously. "I wasn't even drinking the night before!" Clara moved to leave the room, "Stay here!" she demanded, "If you even look at the TARDIS I will kill you, OK? You are not leaving during the middle of this."

Clara went to the door, incensed with anger, opening it.

"Hey," said Emily, holding up a bottle of wine. "Are you ok? Is this a bad time?"

Clara managed to raise a smile at her, inviting her in, looking and listening behind her.

"Hello," she gave Emily a gentle kiss on the cheek, feeling her anger subside somewhat. "How much of what just happened have you heard."

"Nothing, I heard some shouting from the other side of the door," she smirked. She was obviously lying. "Not much. A bit. Most of it."

"Can you just give me a few minutes, the Doctor is here and we are in the middle of an argument, let me turf him out and then I am all yours. Make yourself at home, the kitchen is here on the left." She left Emily and returned to the Doctor, he was still there.

"I'm very glad you aren't stupid enough to have left," she said at a normal tone, closing the door behind her, she could feel her blood boiling. "I could easily kill you right now."

"Good luck trying, you look like you've been possessed, I'm more curious now."

"I am not possessed!" she shouted louder, sighing. "I am so angry with you!" Clara walked up to the TARDIS door, opening it.

"Aren't you glad you got your sick day out of the way, though?" the Doctor stood up.

"It was not a sick day! It was not a hangover day, it was just a simple mistake, OK?" she hovered outside. "So anyway," she had lost the flow of her argument and had other things on her mind now, "I have a visitor in the other room."

"Since when do you have visitors? Oh wait... Is it Harley?" the Doctor asked.

"Who is Harley?" she said loudly.

"Harley... you know, Harley?"

"Answer my question Doctor," she demanded.

"You know, Harley, the rat, the one that has been living here for over six months. Very friendly after he gets to know you. Can be a little bit bitey. You really need to get another pet, I hear cats and dogs are popular around these parts." He paused for breath, "and for women in your situation, cats are preferable."

"I do not have a rat in my kitchen," Clara shouted loudly.

There was a smashing noise and a scream from the other room.

"Looks like he has come out to meet your friend," the Doctor said. "Hope both your tetanus injections are up to date." He smiled widely.

"Hang on, women in my situation?" she said loudly. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know, single, sans partner, getting on a bit-"

"Getting on a bit?" she shouted. "I'm 29! Try looking in the mirror before saying that. I am not some old spinster cat lady." There was laughter from the other side of the door. Emily was listening to them.

"Correct, right now you aren't," the Doctor agreed.

"Thank you," she said, at a normal voice, beginning to get through to him.

"Because you don't have a cat."

"I hate you," she said loudly, folding her arms.

"So anyway, you asked me where I was taking you earlier," he turned around and opened the TARDIS door.

"Yesterday, when you dropped me off in near arctic conditions," she corrected him.

"Yesterday, earlier, same thing," the Doctor walked inside.

"Definitely not the same thing," she said loudly, eventually following him inside, closing the door behind him, he went to power up the TARDIS.

"Fancy finding out why the Hanging Gardens of Babylon are, well, hanging?" the Doctor said.

"They don't exist," Clara shook her head.

"Don't they?" the Doctor said, smiling, he posed it as a question he already knew the answer to.

Clara folded her arms and screwed up her face. "Oh, ok, go on then," she said after a minute. "On one condition."

"Which is?" the Doctor asked.

"Drop me back exactly when we left, and let me have a decent night's sleep before we go back."

"That's two conditions-"

"Shut up," she said.

"Yes, boss." The Doctor flipped the switch on the TARDIS, and off they went.

...

It turned out the Hanging Gardens of Babylon were full of shape shifting amoeba like creatures, intent on devouring any human life forms to molecular level to feed the greenery. They spent four days hiding out, trying to avoid being dissolved into plant food, eventually locating the source and rehoming it on a planet in the Gilburne nebular.

The Doctor materialised the TARDIS a few minutes after they'd left, the same time and date, and after having an extended sleep in the TARDIS's spare bedroom. She put on the clothes she'd been wearing and fixed her hair, removing a few stray leaves.

She walked into her living room, the Doctor followed her. It was 17.15.

"Thank you," Clara said, going to hug him awkwardly. "Would you like to meet my visitor?"

"What, they one you've been banging on about for the last four days? I'm not sure, I don't do very well in social situations..." he said.

"No, you don't, do you?" she laughed.

Clara went out into the hallway and saw Emily looking at the photos on the wall.

"Sorry about that," Clara smiled.

"How many hen parties have you been to? Or is it just lots of pictures of the same hen party?" Emily asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, that is an excellent question!" said the Doctor, appearing behind Clara. "Why didn't I ask that?"

"Emily, this is the Doctor, Doctor, this is Emily." Clara said.

"Is this Jack the Ripper?" the Doctor asked.

"Not as far as I know," Clara said.

"Hi," Emily said. "Have you resolved your argument?"

"What argument?" said Clara, thinking back, they had had many arguments in the last four days, suddenly remembering the whole school car park thing. "Oh yeah, we've sorted that out now. The Doctor left me in the middle of a freezing cold car park at six in the morning the other day. I was a bit angry."

"I could hear," Emily laughed. "Remind me never to get you angry."

"That is a very wise course of action," said the Doctor.

"Is there really a rat in Clara's kitchen?" said Emily, directed at him.

"Oh yes, Harley, did you see him?"

"No I did not," Emily said, matter-of-factly.

"So the Doctor was just leaving..." Clara said.

"Was I?" he said.

"Yes," said Clara.

"I thought you told me you had a whole evening of Netflix and chill planned?"

"What?!" said Clara, blushing. Emily laughed. "I didn't-"

"You know watching Netflix and chilling out," said the Doctor, "that sounds like my sort of evening. Can we watch Breaking Bad? That's my favourite. I can also tolerate House of Cards."

"Yes, that is exactly what we are going to be doing," said Clara, sarcastically.

"Oh good, I was half expecting it to be one of those unfortunate inoffensive euphemistic terms and," he paused, pointing at Emily, "I don't know this one well enough."

"I'm sorry?!" she exclaimed.

"To be fair he is has a point," Emily sniggered.

"Oh don't you encourage him," Clara said to Emily, playfully, elbowing her in the ribs.

"I mean Breaking Bad is good," Emily clarified, her eyes twinkling.

"Thank you, friend. Clara doesn't watch it. So I'll get the duvets, chilling implies that it's going to be cold-"

"Err... no, Doctor, you are leaving," Clara pointed to the front door.

"Why?" the Doctor asked.

Clara had two reasons ready to go. "Firstly, Netflix and chill is a two person activity-"

"Is it?" the Doctor said.

"Right now, yes it is." Clara stated, walking towards the front door.

"Can we ask her to leave?" the Doctor whispered to Emily, pointing at Clara. Emily laughed.

"Doctor!" Clara said. "You can't chuck me out of my own flat! The second very good reason, is that..." she paused, "one of the main components is a disproportionately large amount of not watching the screen due to participation in..." she looked at Emily, thinking of all the things they would probably be doing apart from what she was about to say, "...conversation. More specifically conversation, subsection, trivial gossip." She winked at Emily.

The Doctor screwed up his eyebrows, "but why would you want to do that?"

"I know," she sighed, "sounds rubbish doesn't it?"

"Sounds boring, I'll leave you to it," the Doctor walked towards the living room.

"Doctor, the front door is that way," Clara pointed. "When I have guests you have to use the front door, remember?"

"Oh yes," he nodded.

"Emily, make yourself at home," she said, "let me just see the Doctor out."

"Bye, friend," he said to Emily as she disappeared into the living room, standing at the doorway.

She ushered the Doctor towards the front door. "You can have the TARDIS," she said in a low voice, "if you give me ten minutes, you can come back into the living room and leave. And don't even think about coming back here until at least Saturday morning unless you want to hear gossiping. And lock this door."

"Ok, boss."

"Goodbye Doctor," she said louder, leaving the door on the latch.

She padded back to the living room, seeing Emily looking at the TARDIS.

"Oh, and take this stupid big Blue Police Box thing with you," she shouted down at the empty corridor.

"What is this?" Emily asked, walking around it.

"Oh, this thing," she said dismissively, "he likes to build things and then realise they are too big to get out."

"I... see..." she said, unsure.

"Anyway," said Clara, moving to stand in front of Emily, "we appear to be wasting valuable time." She leant over to kiss her gently.

Emily returned her kiss, laughing into it.

"What?" said Clara, pulling away.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure who is worse, Lewis or the Doctor..." she laughed to herself.

"I think they are about as bad as each other," Clara mused. Lewis was much worse.

Emily pushed Clara backwards onto the side of the TARDIS, kissing her urgently. Clara straightened herself up and walked Emily backwards towards the bedroom as they started removing clothing from each other, discarded in a trail on the floor. They made it to the hallway before Emily pressed her into the wall at the back, Clara was wearing just her bra on top now. Emily was topless, trying to remove Clara's trousers.

Clara froze as she spotted the Doctor creeping in through the front door out of the corner of her eye as Emily was kissing her neck, watching him see her, standing still deciding what to do. She begged him to turn around and go back out, but instead he walked slowly and silently up the hallway, locking the door quietly behind him, invisible to Emily. He was holding his right index finger to his lips as he stepped. He was about to say something behind Emily but stopped as Clara glared at him, indicating to go to the kitchen. This was truly mortifying.

Clara reinstated the kiss as she moved up off the wall and shoved Emily towards the bedroom, closing the door behind her loudly.


	11. Chapter 11

Clara had intended to give it about ten minutes and then excuse herself to the toilet or something to check that the Doctor had actually gone. That was three hours ago according to the clock, having been otherwise distracted with having sex. Clara sighed to herself, presuming he must have gone by now. The next time she saw him would be horrifically awkward, unless it was an earlier version.

She looked at Emily in her bed, eyes wide, staring back at her, smiling. Whatever was going on between them, Clara was enjoying it.

"How have I just lost three hours?" sighed Clara, laughing, trailing a finger down Emily's collar bone.

"I don't know, maybe we are doing something wrong?" Emily smirked. "The last time I watched three episodes Breaking Bad it felt a lot lot longer." She laughed.

"Hey," Clara shoved Emily roughly, ending up kissing her. It was the sort of kiss that felt like she would lose another couple of hours within an instant.

There was a loud crash outside the door, causing them both to look in the direction of the hallway. Clara immediately pulled away.

"Stay here," said Clara, a little worried, getting up off the bed, pulling on a dressing gown and opening the door carefully into the hallway. She walked out and saw an enormous amount of exposed black wiring inside her living room. The Doctor was behind the back of her TV, only his legs visible. All of the wires were coming out of the TARDIS towards various electronic devices around the room, the washing machine was also in the room. He hadn't left yet, and this was going to very difficult to explain if Emily came out of the bedroom. There was no explaining this away.

"Doctor!" shouted Clara louder, "what the hell are you doing here?! And I am expecting a three part answer detailing why you are still here, what you are doing with my TV and why you haven't left yet. Go."

"Ok then, I was worried about you, it looked like you were being attacked, again, I was looking for the Netflix and I haven't found it yet."

"I don't have Netflix, Doctor," she sighed.

"Oh," he said, taken aback. "That would explain it. Sorry about the mess." He stood up, oblivious to how many wires there were around, "so how are you doing Netflix and chill? Are you both just very cold?" He pointed to the dressing gown. "I have only got the last two episodes to go as well."

"Clara, what's going on?" said Emily from the other room.

"It's just the Doctor," she said back.

"Come back to bed," Emily said. Clara blushed heavily.

"Why are you both in bed? There's a perfectly good sofa available here." He asked.

"Why do you think we're both in bed?" she narrowed her eyes.

"It sounded like you were gossiping about ten minutes ago, although not in English, was it-"

"Doctor!"

"I always though gossiping was when you talked about someone else behind their back, like a conversation equivalent of Heat magazine, two thousand years and I'm wrong, can you believe that?" he smiled.

Clara rolled her eyes. "Doctor I'm going back to bed, it's late-"

"What are you talking about late, it's 9pm! The news hasn't even been on yet," exclaimed the Doctor.

"He does have a point," said Emily from the other room. Clara could hear her moving.

"Shut up... both of you," she shouted. "Doctor, I'm going back to bed, when I get up for work in the morning I expect all of this," she cast her arm around the room, "to be gone. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Providing you don't sleep in again, not got the best track record this week have you?" Emily laughed from the bathroom.

"You are not allowed near or in the bedroom, is that understood? Unless you want to see more... gossiping," she shouted.

"I do not want to see that," the Doctor agreed.

"I've got a Netflix password if you want," said Emily in the hallway. She was wearing a towel and ventured towards the living room.

"Thank you, visitor," the Doctor said, nodding. "See, this is the sort of answer I was expecting, Clara. She's investigative and helpful. Much less wide face too. I bet she doesn't need three mirrors."

"What the absolute fuck?" Emily said as she stood at the doorway. Her mouth hung open before she started laughing. "And I thought my flatmate was a nightmare. He's never done anything like this." She paused, "he is definitely worse than Lewis." She was right.

"And you're wearing less clothing than she is," the Doctor pointed at Clara. "You seem to get the whole chilly aspect." Clara had to stop this.

"Yes I am," said Emily, looking down at herself and nodding. "I thought you were some sort of traveller? Are you some sort of AV guy as well?"

"I am," the Doctor. "I'm also a-"

"Come on," said Clara, to Emily, "let's go back to bed. The Doctor is going to sort this out and then he is travelling away from here. Aren't you Doctor?" She was getting annoyed.

"I think he's hilarious," Emily pointed at him. "Do you want that password?"

"If you don't want to make her angry I think you should probably do as she says," the Doctor warned Emily, "her eyes are activating."

"What are you talking about?" Clara said. Emily disappeared down the hallway, wrote something down and then reappeared.

"Your eyes," the Doctor, "they're turning on." He was backing away from Clara. "I don't want to see 100%"

Clara looked at Emily, giving her an incensed narrow glare that she hoped she understood as return to the bedroom right this moment.

"Oh yeah, I think I see what you mean... I've seen it before," said Emily, raising an eyebrow. "Definitely getting a powerful message from them." She backed off in the direction of the Doctor, holding out a piece of paper to him. "Try this, it's my flatmate's shit of an ex girlfriend's log in." She lowered her voice, "the last two episodes are the best," she said whilst fixing her stare on Clara, smiling and raising her eyebrow.

"You'd better do what she says," he pointed at Clara, turning away. "Your visitor is very useful, you can keep her."

"Doctor!" She was going to have to be more direct.

"Emily," she said, "get back in the bedroom!" Clara screwed up her face at them both. Emily laughed, staying still. "Doctor, sort out this mess.

"See what I mean? Look at the eyes," the Doctor said. "She's at 23% already, scary isn't it?"

"I think it's fucking sexy," said Emily, clearly pushing her.

"What?! No!" said the Doctor, "you need to be afraid, not aroused, is your translator nerve broken?" He began to get out the sunglasses.

"Put them away, Doctor," Clara snapped. "Emily," she said sternly, aiming a look she knew would make her move immediately, "I am not going to tell you again. Bedroom, now."

"I- I- need to go," Emily swallowed hard, "bye Doctor," she walked up to Clara.

"Told you," said the Doctor to Emily's back, "scary isn't it? Although I've not seen that exact look before..." he trailed off.

"Fuck me, you are sexy when you are angry," breathed Emily when she reached her. "I hope you're ready to lose another few hours."

"Sort this out," Clara pointed to the Doctor as Emily grabbed her hand, rougly dragging her to the other room.

...

Clara woke up to her alarm the next morning at 6am, seeing Emily fast asleep, facing away from her. She smiled to herself, allowing her hand to trace along Emily's exposed arm and then begrudgingly got up to get ready for work.

She found her living room returned to normal, but the Doctor sat feet up on the sofa, watching TV.

"Why are you still here?" she said, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Battlestar Gallactica," he stated. "How have I not seen this?" He shushed her. "It's got to be one of the Adamas hasn't it? One of them has to be a Cylon!"

"Oh for god's sake," she started, intending to tell him to leave, before deciding better of it. He wouldn't listen. She stalked to the bathroom to have a shower and get ready.

Clara went back into her room afterwards, Emily was still fast asleep. Clara decided to leave her, knowing this was going to be a recipe for disaster with the Doctor still there, but she couldn't risk being late again. She collected her things, talking them to the hallway before going back to the Doctor.

"I'm leaving Doctor," said Clara, picking up her keys, fluffing up her hair.

"It's OK, I understand," he said, pausing the TV. "I've got the parting email ready for you."

"What?" she said, surprised. "No, I'm leaving for work, I'll be back later."

"Oh, I see."

"Please try to keep my flat tidy," she said, "as I've still got guests."

"Is it guests now? Plural? I thought it was a two person activity?" He looked confused, "I find it so difficult to keep track..."

"Just one, sorry. A guest, singular."

"Same visitor from yesterday? Is she still here?" he asked. "The one you were... gossiping with very frakking loud until 2am? "

"What's frakking?" Clara said, eager to leave. "Never mind. Leave her alone, OK?"

"If you say so." He started the TV again.

"No gossiping, OK?" She pointed at her eyes and then at him.

"She's even younger than you, so that's not going to be a problem. She's practically the age of one your students isn't she? And besides, she seems to quite enjoy gossiping with you."

She groaned at him. "She is 24!" she smirked to herself, realising. "No I meant actual Heat style gossip. Right, I am going. Goodbye." She walked to the front door with a gnawing sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. No work drinks tonight.

...

Clara got to school just before the morning meeting.

"Morning Miss Oswald," Linda said as she handed Clara the Friday morning briefing paper and held a larger document away from her. "OFSTED report, I think you'll be particularly interested in page 9," she smirked, not giving her a copy. Bitch.

"Morning everyone," said Bill from the other side of the room. "By now you will have seen that we have got the Good rating that we were all hoping for, thanks to everyone for your hard work. At least a child wasn't stabbed, eh?" There was laughter.

Clara hoped there was nothing for her to worry about in that report. Linda had made her feel very nervous.

"If I don't see you before end of day please do have a nice weekend." There were murmurings as the other teachers moved out.

Clara went to get a copy of the report to read in case Bill came over to her. She quickly scanned a discarded copy from the coffee table. There was nothing on page 9 about English. She hated Linda, and hoped she got her in Secret Santa this year.

Bill walked over, putting his hand on her shoulder as she flipped through the pages.

"Not too bad, considering?" he said. "Is it?"

"I haven't had a chance to look at the details yet," Clara said, "the traffic was really bad on the way in." She saw what she was looking for on page 6. There was a paragraph detailing her lesson. She picked out the words 'disruptive influences' and 'strong content' and 'friendly', nothing too bad. That turn with the Wikipedia sheet had been one of her better ideas. Courtney had been very disruptive, but she'd carried on regardless, shutting down any interference in her lesson. And she had flirted her socks off with the inspector.

"Considering you had Miss Woods there, I'd say that was a blinding result personally. Well done." He strolled off. She breathed a sigh of relief, at least that was one less thing to worry about.

...

Clara decided to give the after work drinks a miss this week, remembering it had technically only been a week since she'd met Emily. It felt like a lot longer, for her it had been nearer twelve days. She was anxious to get home as quickly as possible, almost mowing a few innocent pedestrians down on her bike in the rush to get back.

She got in the door to silence, eerie silence. She walked into the kitchen on the left and made herself a large glass of red wine, sipping it as she investigated into the living room.

Clara found the Doctor in the same place on the sofa as she had left him earlier and Emily sat in some of her clothes on the recliner chair. They'd moved the chair further into the room to see around the TARDIS, still parked in the middle of the room. They were so focussed on the TV neither of them noticed her enter the room.

"And what are you two up to?" Clara said to them both. Emily turned around to smile.

"Series Two, Episode 6," replied the Doctor, not acknowledging her.

"Of what?" Clara said, sitting down on the arm of the sofa.

"Better Call Saul," said Emily.

The Doctor paused the TV to look at her, "is it wine o'clock already?"

"Yes, yes it is," Clara nodded. "Looks like you've both had a productive day?"

"We've been Netflixing and Chilling," said the Doctor. Emily sniggered.

"Err... no you haven't," said Clara. "At least I hope you haven't. Don't you have work or uni to do? Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"Home study day," she said. "I'm off until tomorrow night."

"Are you going to talk all the way through, or am I going to have to ask you to leave?" said the Doctor.

"Fancy a cigarette?" said Clara, to Emily, indicating the balcony with her eyes.

"You don't smoke," said the Doctor dismissively, "why would you want to do that?"

"Sure," said Emily, disappearing to the other room and returning with cigarettes and a lighter. Clara opened the balcony door as far as the TARDIS would allow, about a foot, just enough for them both to squeeze through to go outside.

"I'm sorry he's still here," said Clara, sipping her wine, moving out of view of the Doctor.

"It's fine," said Emily, smiling. "You look good today," she pulled Clara towards her for a kiss. Clara responded to her, pressing her body into Emily's against the railings.

"What have you been doing?" Clara said after a few minutes, still holding Emily's waist with her free hand. "I couldn't even wake you this morning," she laughed. Emily lit up a cigarette.

"I woke up about 12, rifled through your wardrobe-"

"I can see that," Clara interrupted. She found it oddly appealing that Emily was wearing her clothes. "I like it."

"-and then the Doctor and I have sat watching TV. I couldn't be bothered to go home," she said blankly, blowing out a plume of smoke.

"I was kind of hoping you would have left by now," Clara said, sarcastically, drinking her wine. "I was looking forward to a nice relaxing evening," she sighed.

"Figured I'd wait until you came home, catch up on the... gossip." Emily laughed. "He's cool, you know, the Doctor. I like him. He does say some strange things though." She inhaled through her cigarette. "Keeps talking about future series of programmes that haven't even been made yet."

"He does that," Clara said.

"Does he understand what's happening? Does he actually think we are talking?" she laughed.

"Probably, he's a bit naive about stuff like this," Clara said, flippantly.

Emily finished her cigarette, stubbing it out. She grabbed Clara's waist and reinstated the kiss, more urgently this time.

The Doctor banged on the window loudly, causing them both to turn to look. He was there, shrugging his shoulders, pointing towards the TV.

"Seriously?" Clara said, mouthed at him through the window. Emily put her head on Clara's chest, laughing.

"He really doesn't get it, does he?" Emily sighed.

"No," said Clara, shaking her head. "I really need to get rid of him."

"Good luck with that," Emily laughed. "He doesn't look like he is going anywhere."

Emily went back inside, sitting back on the chair. Clara finished her wine, and then followed. The Doctor had resumed his place and had the remote pointed towards the TV, finger poised over the pause button.

"Clara, make yourself useful, sort me and visitor out some food," he said to her, shooing her away, "two person activity, remember?"

"Doctor, I think we need to have a chat about what is happening here," Clara said, sitting next to him on the sofa.

He sighed. "There's a chemistry teacher, he needs some money for cancer treatment-"

"I don't need to know the entire story of Breaking Bad," she interrupted him.

"But you've missed quite a lot," the Doctor said, resigned.

"Doctor," she said, "I need a night off."

"Order in a chinese then," he said. "Do you remember that one we had after robbing the bank of Karabraxos? With Psy and Saibra? Something equivalent of that please."

"That was a good chinese..." Clara remembered.

"Was that when you didn't steal the Mona Lisa?" Emily asked, sarcastically.

"How does she know about that?" the Doctor asked, pointing. "Have you told her?"

"No, I haven't, not yet," Clara said to the Doctor. "I may have mentioned it in passing."

"Told me what?" said Emily.

"It's a good story, maybe you could tell visitor-"

"Emily," said Clara. "Her name's Emily. I think I'll save that for another time. No, Doctor, could you please just disappear for a few hours, I have stuff to do."

"But what about me and Emily watching Better Call Saul?"

"I'll catch up," said Emily, laughing.

"I'll give you my laptop, go and watch it somewhere else, come back tomorrow and we can go somewhere, OK?"

"Is it for canoodling?" he asked, resigned.

She blushed, "yes."

"Why didn't you just say?" said the Doctor. "Come on Emily, we'll leave her to it, I know a really good Chinese..." He stood up to leave, Emily stayed where she was. "Oh..." he said, realising.

"Yes," said Clara, folding her arms. "Oh."

"So last night?" he asked, pointing to Emily, and back to her.

"Yes," Clara blushed.

"And Jane Austen?" the Doctor asked.

"Oh because that is completely relevant and appropriate right this moment," said Clara, sarcastically, "yes."

"And that teacher from your school at the party?"

"Yes," she sighed putting her hand to her head before realising what he had said to her. "Sorry, what? How the hell do you know about that?" she said louder. "I only just found that out!"

"And the other day? When you didn't go to work?"

"Yep," Clara looked away.

"And... when I saw you at that bar?"

"Yes," she sighed.

"Well, this is... awkward... don't mind me," he said, moving slowly towards the TARDIS. "How have you had time for so much...?"

"That is a very good question," laughed Emily.

He looked at her, narrowing his eyes. "I need to go," said the Doctor resigned, opening the TARDIS door, disappearing inside.

"Why has he gone inside the box?" asked Emily. "He seemed pretty upset."

"Oh... he does that," said Clara, "go into the bedroom, let me speak to him. I'll be in in a minute."

Emily walked off to the other room, Clara closed the door and went into the TARDIS. She couldn't see him anywhere.

"Doctor?" she called out. "Where are you?"

"I'm down here," he said, on the bottom floor, he was inspecting some mechanical components.

"I'm sorry, OK?" Clara said, sitting on the platform above. "It's just sort of happened."

"I really don't mind, Clara," the Doctor said, "you can canoodle with whomever you want. Stupid doctor, not noticing," he hit himself on the head with his fist.

"It's only been a week, I don't know what it is yet," she sighed, "I didn't expect to become involved with anyone," she paused, "not much room for anything in my life with all of this."

"Go on," he said, waving her away, "I'll see you in a few days."

"Are you upset with me?" she asked.

"No, of course I'm not," he said, "I'm just looking out for you."

"I know."

"Go off, have your fun, I'll leave you alone." He sounded resigned.

"Come and see me tomorrow night, take me somewhere," she said.

"Bye," he said.

Clara stood up and walked out, hearing the TARDIS dematerialise behind her after the door closed.

She padded to the bedroom, Emily was sat on the bed.

"What was that loud whooshing noise?" asked Emily.

"Oh, a plane flew over I think or something," said Clara.

"Is he alright?"

"He just gets very over protective of me, that's all." Clara sighed, sitting on the bed, shaking her head. "Nobody will ever be good enough for me."

"I understand, wait until you meet my sister," Emily laughed. "She's a complete bitch, I mean I love her, but she's a nightmare. She once pretended to be me to break up with someone."

"Really?" said Clara.

"Yes, but it didn't work," Emily laughed. "Has he gone?" she raised her eyebrow.

"Yep," Clara nodded, smiling, noticing Emily was shuffling towards her on the bed. She straddled her, pinning Clara to the bed.

"Should really make the most of it then, shouldn't we?" Emily said into Clara's ear, kissing her neck.

"Yeah," breathed Clara as she put her hands through Emily's hair.

...

Clara stood up in the kitchen against the counter, sipping a mug of tea she'd just made, smiling to herself. It was 1pm. They'd spent the night having more sex, it was getting much more intense now they'd got to know each other better and had the place to themselves. It was like a drug, she just wanted more now. Clara couldn't ignore the feeling that all she wanted to do at the moment was pin Emily to the floor and... She shook herself out of the daydream.

"When am I going to see you next?" said Emily, as she put on her shoes.

"Well, the last time I checked it wasn't half term next week," she laughed. "I'm not otherwise engaged at any other point. Do actually turn up to do your Masters?"

"Of course I do," Emily said, "it's part time this week."

"Of course it is," Clara laughed.

"It really is," Emily laughed. "I'm working tonight, tomorrow, Tuesday..." she thought, "Wednesday... and Friday night."

Clara tried to align their schedule in her head. "So Monday night?"

"I can do Monday," Emily walked over to Clara, putting her arms around her waist. "Shame I have to leave now," she sighed.

"Yeah, it's taking all I have to not undress you right this moment..." Clara put down her tea on the side, looked down and put her hands on the belt cinching in Emily's blue shirt dress. She undid the buckle. "And-"

"For fuck's sake, get off me!" Emily said, playfully, moving Clara's hands away. "I have to go to work!" she laughed, doing back up the belt.

"But-" Clara said, biting her lip, looking down, breathing out.

"I need to go," sighed Emily, kissing her gently, "I really need to go."

"Ok," Clara smiled, not letting go for a few seconds, kissing her again,

Emily made no attempt to go, kissing up Clara's neck, biting it gently.

"Oi, don't you dare!" Clara said, wrestling herself free of Emily. "I can't turn up at work on Monday with a love bite, how old are you actually? Like 12?" She laughed.

"That's a shame..." said Emily, a cheeky glint in her eye. She stepped away and walked towards the front door. "I'll meet you after work on Monday then?"

"Yes," sighed Clara, leaning on the doorway of the kitchen.

"I will see you then... then," Emily laughed, moving to kiss Clara on the cheek. "I can't wait, shame we don't have a time machine."

"I know, isn't it?" Clara said.

Emily opened the door, walked out, before poking her head past the doorframe, "I just want you to know, for the record, I'd like to say I'm sorry, but I'm really, really not." Her laughter echoed in the corridor as the door closed.

"What?" said Clara as she raced for the door, opening it to see Emily disappearing down the communal staircase, smiling to herself.

Clara closed the door, a little confused.

A familiar whooshing noise came from one of the rooms, she hoped to he hadn't turned up in the bedroom, as it was a bit of a mess. She looked inside the bedroom, relieved the TARDIS wasn't there, she closed the door to hide the evidence.

She saw the TARDIS in the living room, the Doctor leaning on the frame of the open TARDIS door.

"Doctor, your timing today is impeccable, thank you," she said, smiling, without a trace of sarcasm.

"What do you mean? What day is it?" the Doctor said, looking around.

"It's Saturday, Doctor."

"There are lots of Saturdays, Clara, which one?"

"Err, 27th of February, 2016... Why?"

"Just wondering, didn't want to waste energy walking back to the screen, I should try that more often," he smiled at her. "Right then, are you ready?"

"Not quite, I need an hour or so," Clara said, pacing up to him, "are you OK?"

"OK?" the Doctor said, confused. "Why would I be... OK?"

"The last time you were here," she paused, "yesterday, you... we..." she looked up to the ceiling, "how do I say this? You seemed upset with me?"

"I haven't been here since we went to Lollapalooza in '91."

"That was two weeks ago!" said Clara. "So we haven't done the Hanging Gardens?"

"The Hanging Gardens?" the Doctor said, "of Babylon? No... No! They don't exist! What are you talking about?"

"Yes they do, we-" Clara started.

The Doctor put his hands over his ears and shouted, "La la la la la, I'm not listening, I don't want to know my future!"

"Ok, ok," Clara tapped him on the shoulder, "have we done the school car park yet?"

"A school car park? Why would on earth would we go there?" he said.

"Oh, no reason," Clara trailed off.

"All of time and space at our disposal and we go to a school car park? No, that sounds rubbish. Why do we go to a school car park? This I want to know."

"Erm..." Clara fiddled with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "I overslept and didn't turn up for work..." she paused, realising it was actually her screwing herself over, and that she was the 'reasonable authority' he'd heard it from, saying very slowly, "because I knew that I was already there."

"And why did you oversleep?" the Doctor glared at her.

"I really forget why... may or may not have been some canoodling involved," she said awkwardly.

"So you just gave yourself the day off? Oh, no, no, no Clara," he pointed at her, "you... you cannot do that."

"I know, I know," she sighed, shaking her head, "not something I'm planning to repeat any time soon."

"Where?" he said, flippantly. "When?"

"2pm, Wednesday just gone," she said, looking down to the floor, "Jubilee Street in Whitechapel."

The Doctor went back into the TARDIS, it whooshed and disappeared, she stood back as the torrent of air hit her. It reappeared a second after, and the door opened. The Doctor stood on the doorframe as he had done a moment ago.

"You," he said, "and I quote, didn't set your alarm? What kind of excuse is that?"

"I'm sorry, OK," said Clara.

"And you did not look happy," he walked out into the living room. "There was a large amount of eye activation going on."

"It's ok, I'd completely calmed down by the next time I saw you when I got home from work yesterday, on Thursday," Clara lied, smiling, hoping her eyes were not betraying her.

"So where do you want to go today?" said the Doctor. "Pyramids of Jurapitu, maybe to see the Tribes of Vestibullam or there is a planet made completely of sapphires where the people are blue too? It's your turn to choose."

"Maybe..." said Clara, realising there was something she needed to do, "I saw you and Future me the other day."

"You did?" said the Doctor. "But we don't go and mess with our own time streams, you know that!"

"You've just gone back in time to teach me a lesson for sleeping in," she stated bluntly, turning away.

"That's different," the Doctor said.

"Is it?" said Clara, folding her arms, turning back. "Doesn't seem that," she impersonated his Scottish accent, "different."

"No, no, don't do that," he shook his head. "So are you ready?"

"I told you, not quite," she said, "I had a bit of lie in today. I need an hour."

"Better get going then," he waved her off, looking at her bookcase. "That massive dirty mark around your neck won't clean itself."


	12. Chapter 12

"What?!" said Clara.

"Take your make up again, did you?" the Doctor said, seriously, not looking at her, selecting a book from the bookcase. "There are three mirrors in your bedroom, maybe you could use one of them. Just an idea." He sat in the chair.

"Oh, no, no, no..." said Clara as she walked quickly into the bathroom. When the light flickered on she saw her whole neck covered in bruises. "Bitch..." she sighed before laughing once to herself, pulling her hair back, there were at least ten, Clara hadn't even realised. The anger then began to set in. She slunk back into the living room, head in her hands. This was not good. "I'm going to need a little bit longer to get ready," she said to the Doctor.

"Has someone hurt you?" the Doctor asked, suddenly concerned, getting up. "They look like bruises in this light. If someone's hurt you-"

"No," she said, shaking her head, blushing.

"-won't hesitate to go back in time and sort them out."

"You'd do that?" said Clara, trying to hold in laughter.

"I am Scottish at the moment, I hear they like a good fight," he said, putting his hand on her neck gently, "I'll get my fighting spoon ready. How did you get that? Are they teeth marks? Why are there so many?"

"It's fine Doctor, nobody has hurt me..." she sighed, "I sort of consented to it." Emily was going to pay for this the next time she saw her. "Have you not seen a love bite before?"

"Why would you bite someone you love?" he asked, counting. "Ten times."

"I will be sure to ask that question next time." Clara said.

"Is that a regular greeting? Have I been doing it wrong all this time?" He moved towards her.

"Err... no it's not!" she pushed him away. "Don't ever bite me or anyone else on the neck, ok?"

"Is it vampires?" he asked.

"No, not vampires either."

"Oh," he said, disappointed. "That's a shame."

"It's something that happened accidentally during some... umm..." she searched for the right words, this was awkward. He was over 2000 years old, how did he not realise what was happening?

"Some what?"

"Extended hugging," she said slowly.

"That's why I don't like hugging. As long as you're sure," the Doctor took one last look at her neck and then went back to his book. "You know, if someone has hurt you, I will go back and change it. They'll find themselves floating a long time ago in a galaxy far far away."

"That's from Star Wars," Clara said, laughing.

"Is it?" the Doctor said. "Never seen it."

"You've never seen Star Wars?" she laughed, giving him an odd look. "So... I'm going to get ready," she said, "need to find that super strength concealer, I know it's in there somewhere."

She walked to the bedroom and collected a few things before heading into the bathroom.

"What has been going on in there?" said the Doctor, from the hallway. "Have you replaced me with wrestling as one of your hobbies?"

"Seriously, Doctor? That is your question?" She went back to close the door. "Stay out of my bedroom."

"But it looks like you've been burgled!"

She slammed the bathroom door, banging her head onto it. He was right, of course, that was what her bedroom looked like. She desperately hoped he wouldn't start scanning the rest of the flat for evidence of what had been going on... She smirked to herself in the mirror before getting ready.

She emerged from the bathroom dressed in a blue jumper and black skinny jeans, towel drying her hair. It was 2.30pm

"Doctor?" she said, unable to hear or see him. The TARDIS had gone. She used the time to tidy her bedroom a bit, straightening out the sheets and getting rid of the discarded clothing. She picked up her phone, messaging Emily.

: How am I supposed to go to work on Monday with ten love bites on my neck?

A reply came a few minutes later as she was drying her hair.

: I don't know what you are talking about ;-)

: When did you do that?

: Can't remember exactly. Kitchen floor maybe? Distracted.

Clara laughed out loud to herself, blushing. She thought back, smiling to herself. Monday was going to be a long wait. The TARDIS appeared in the living room as Clara was about to straighten her hair.

"Where did you disappear to?" Clara shouted across, at least her bedroom was presentable now.

The Doctor walked through, "I went to Tricadia, they do this stuff for bruises there, makes them invisible." He held out a small tube of cream out to her.

Clara put down her straighteners, turning them off. "Are you joking? You can't make bruises disappear!"

"Well, I can't have you coming out with me looking like that, can I?" said the Doctor. "It's embarrassing."

"I know, tell me about it," said Clara under her breath. "How do I use it?"

"It's a cream Clara, no rocket science involved." He went back off into the other room.

She took the plain white tube from him, putting some on her neck. It was as if she had erased the purple marks as she rubbed it in. In two minutes they had all disappeared. She thought of all the times she could have done with this and laughed to herself.

"Doctor," she said, walking in to the other room. "Can I keep this?" Might come in useful on Monday.

"If you're planning another session of extended hugging I would," he said whilst reading.

"Right now, I could hug you," she smiled at him, "thanks."

"Please don't, you know my feelings on the hugging. Get ready."

Clara smirked to herself, slipping the tube into her bag.

...

"So where did you see your future self?" said the Doctor, once Clara had eventually got ready and gone into the TARDIS.

"Last Saturday, the... umm... 20th. Near Liverpool Street." She took her phone out and searched through her call logs. "About shortly before 4pm." She searched for the location of the bar, "Brushfield Street."

"What happened?" he asked.

"You appeared and gave me a note from myself." Clara went to the bottom floor of the TARDIS and searched for something to write the note on, remembering she'd used the special ink, finding it in a small draw in the bureau there.

"Ok then," sighed the Doctor set the co-ordinates. The TARDIS moved.

She stared at the paper, trying to remember what she'd written. Something about not getting drunk. It was this note that made her realise Emily was attractive as well. She wrote:

I know you haven't noticed yet, but she's attractive, isn't she?  
Stop talking about the Doctor, go back inside, say yes when she asks you to go with her and you will have a good night... that's all I'm saying.  
And please don't get too drunk, I want to remember.

That was a rough approximation of what she'd written. She then remembered the thing about the wine.

And please don't get too drunk, I want to remember. No more wine. OK?

She folded up the note and heard the TARDIS phone ringing. The Doctor had disappeared away from the console, Clara just missed being able to pick up the call. She heard her voice pumping out through the loud speaker.

"Hi Doctor, it's me, sorry I missed your, 400 missed calls, I lost my phone, only just got it back. Give me a call when you get this."

"It is weird hearing my own voice," said Clara.

"And this is why we don't mess about in our time streams," said the Doctor. "How did you lose your phone?"

"Accident," said Clara walking towards the front door and opening it. "Right, so I need you to go and give me this note, I'm sat in the front window of the blue bar..." she pointed down the road."If I remember correctly you knock on the window."

"I don't like this Clara," the Doctor said, walking towards the door.

"It's all perfectly harmless," she said, "nothing happens, I don't actually meet myself."

He stormed off from her. She watched him knock on the window and saw herself come out. She could just about hear them talking in the distance.

"Hello Clara." the Doctor said. "Well technically Past Clara, Future Clara is in the TARDIS because she," he paused, saying loudly, "answered her phone." She waved at her past self, she wished she could go back to that afternoon again.

"Hello Doctor. What do you want? I'm sort of busy," Past Clara said.

"Apparently I needed to come all the way down here right now to tell you something."

"And what is that?"

"Future Clara," the Doctor pointed to her, "the one over there, the one with better clothes, told me to give you this..." he passed over the note. "The next time you want to talk to your past self just take the TARDIS and do it yourself ok?"

Clara saw herself read the note and look into the bar.

"Did future me tell you what was written on this? I hope to god she didn't!" Past Clara said.

"No she did not. You can't just use time travel to pass yourself notes you know, I blew up a solar system trying to get here. What was so vitally important that you had to get me to bring you this?" the Doctor said impatiently.

"Oh nothing," Past Clara said. "But tell her thank you, and hope she enjoyed it." Future Clara thanked her, she did enjoy it. She laughed to herself.

"Enjoyed what?" the Doctor said.

"Goodbye Doctor," Past Clara walked back into the bar, putting the note in her back pocket, she saw her wave again and waved back.

The Doctor stood outside the bar for another thirty seconds and then walked quickly back towards the TARDIS.

"Happy now?" said the Doctor, slamming the TARDIS door behind him. "Who was that you were with?"

"I don't think you've met her yet," said Clara, "I think that will be after the whole Hanging Gardens thing for you."

"Ok, so now we've done that, where are we going?" the Doctor said, pacing around the console.

"Can we make one more stop off?"

"Do I look like a taxi driver?" said the Doctor, clearly getting annoyed. "Is there a big For Hire light that I haven't seen yet?"

"If you get rid of the magician coat," said Clara, "you could totally pass for a taxi driver. It's only a short hop, same day, same place, ish." she fluttered her eyelids, "please?"

"Ok then," he caved in.

"There's drinks," she said.

"I don't drink Clara, you know that."

"Yeah, but I do," she laughed. "You don't even need to come out, I just need to pop out and see something and then we can go."

The Doctor moved the TARDIS as she requested.

...

"Right, so..." she said, "I just need to see something outside," said Clara. She was determined to find out what happened to her that night.

"What are you doing?" said the Doctor, eyeing her suspisciously. "Are you going to see your past self? That is not allowed, Clara."

"I'm not going to see her, I just want to find out what happened," she sighed. "There is a whole evening I've lost, I have no idea what happened and want to make sure nothing untoward... happened. Is that allowed?"

"No, it's not." He walked up to her, bringing his eyes level with hers. He sighed, "were you drunk?"

"RIght now," she checked her watch, "I don't think so." A complete lie.

"Am I there?"

"No, you're not, just me."

"This is very risky," he said, "I'll be in the Library. Please don't get drunk, I don't want to take you home paralytic again."

"That was one time," she sighed. He'd never let her forget that either, even after regenerating, she'd had a few too many cocktails on some moon near Mars and he'd had to carry her back to the TARDIS. "I'll be like ten minutes," said Clara. "Thank you." She checked the time on the console, it was midnight, she'd still be there. She was sure Emily had said they had left at 2am.

Clara walked out and was stood outside the White Swan, wondering how she'd been convinced to go to a place like this. She went up to the main entrance, there was still no queue, and saw the burly bouncer at the front door. He stopped her going in.

"Do you know what-" he started saying, before looking at her oddly. "Hang on, aren't you already inside?"

"My... err... twin sister is in there with her girlfriend."

He looked her up and down, gulping. "Twins?" he said. "Please tell me you are the straight one?" he laughed.

"Afraid not," she said, "so are you going to let me in?" she looked at him expectantly.

"Go ahead, love," he said. "And if you and your sister ever, you know, fancy something..."

"I'll let you know," she said under her breath, feeling a little bit sick.

She walked into the bar, looking around for herself. It was thankfully dark and a lot busier than she remembered it. She saw Lewis, kissing the man he'd gone to meet, she'd forgotten his name. She turned left into the dancefloor and couldn't see either herself or Emily.

She ventured to the outside area and caught sight of herself sat alone on one of the garden benches, she hid out of sight past the doorframe. She was smoking a cigarette, she hadn't smoked since she had a two week phase at uni. What was she doing?

A door opened behind and Emily strolled past her, missing her by mere inches. She sat down next to Clara and took the cigarette off her, taking a heavy drag on it.

They were talking and laughing about something, she couldn't make it out from the distance and background noise. There didn't seem to be anything too bad going on so far, she could let the cigarette go, for now.

Clara knew she should probably go, leave in the TARDIS and carry on her adventure with the Doctor, but there was a large part of her that was curious to know what they were saying to each other.

She stepped into the outside area and sat quietly nearby on the next table pretending to look at her phone.

"Are you alright?" said Emily, laughing at her. "You are a fucking lightweight, aren't you?"

"I was smoking, why was I smoking?" Past Clara slurred so much it was essentially just a long collection of vowels. She had never heard herself this drunk, it was horrifying verging on hilarious.

"You made me light one for you," Emily said.

"I am having a good night," she managed, picking up a nearby beer can and gulping from it heavily.

"You know, so am I," said Emily stroking her thigh, "you are completely fucking mental, some of the stuff you say," she laughed.

"I'm a time traveller," murmured Clara, pointing to herself putting her head on Emily's shoulder.

"Of course you are," Emily smiled, patting her head. "This is exactly what I'm talking about."

Clara couldn't help but laugh to herself. This was hilarious.

"Me and the Doctor, we travel through," Past Clara hiccupped, "space and time, I met Robin Hood! I went on the Orient Express in space!"

Emily laughed at her. "I bet you've met Elizabeth the First too?" she said sarcastically.

"I did actually!" Clara laughed, "she married the Doctor! He threw a fez through a wormhole, thought I was a witch."

"A witch?" Emily laughed. "What the fuck?"

"There was two of them... No, three of them." Clara slurred badly.

"Were you drunk then too?"

"No, I wasn't!" Past Clara protested, letting her head bang on the bench loudly.

"Come on, Shakespeare," Emily stood up, pulling Clara up with her, "up you get."

"Toilet," Clara slurred, pointing.

"Ok then," Emily helped Clara to stand up, putting an arm around her waist. Past Clara wobbled a little for the first few paces, and then was able to walk unaided. "I'm ok! I'm ok!" she slurred.

"For fuck's sake," Emily laughed behind her, following. "Lightweight."

Clara followed them with her eyes, standing up to watch when they disappeared into the toilets. She couldn't recall a time she was this drunk for quite a while, how had she not passed out by now?

Clara watched as about ten minutes later they emerged from the toilet, Emily holding Clara up heavily. They walked through the dance floor, as Clara pulled Emily in for a kiss. After a few minutes Emily ended up pushing Clara up against the back wall, into a long slow passionate kiss.

Clara laughed to herself, hiding out of view on the other side of the dance floor.

"Clara?" a blonde woman came up to her and shouted. She recognised her as Ella, from school. Of all the people that could have been here.

"Oh," she sighed, "hello..?" she was still distracted watching herself kiss Emily.

"Ella. Maths 8F."

"Oh yeah, hello," said Clara.

"Are you here on your own or?" Ella asked.

"Yes, no... sort of." Clara stumbled.

"Having a good night?" she smirked. "I've seen you with that girl you know, she's cute. Where is she?"

"Probably outside having a cigarette," Clara said, glancing over to see herself sat on a ledge, her legs wrapped around Emily, still kissing. They were not going anywhere any time soon.

"It's hot, isn't it?" shouted Ella in her ear, catching her watching the two women kissing.

"Yeah..." said Clara, smiling to herself.

"You know," Ella put her hand on Clara's cheek, moving her head to face hers. "You are an amazing kisser. I haven't been able to get that night out of my head. Ditch what's her name and come back to mine." Ella put her arms around Clara's waist, pulling her in close, moving towards her for a kiss.

"Err, no thanks," said Clara, wriggling away from her. Why were women throwing themselves at her these days? "I told you the other day to get your hands off me!" Clara began to walk away towards the bar, bumping into Emily's back in the hurry to get away from Ella.

"Do you fucking mind?" Emily shouted at her back. "Bitch!"

"Sorry," said Clara, accidentally turning to look.

Emily looked at her, a little confused, and then shook her head. "Just fucking watch where you are going next time, OK?" Past Clara looked directly at her, mouth open, pointing.

"Is that me?" Past Clara slurred, pointing. "What is future me doing here? I hate future me!"

"That's not future you," Emily laughed. "Fuck off then," she said to Clara.

"Sorry," Clara said, turning around and heading to the bar to head out. She needed to leave right now, this was getting awkward and embarrassing.

She went to leave through the outside door when someone stopped her.

"Carla?"

"Oh great," she said under her breath.

"Carla," said Lewis, holding her hand, "where are you going?"

"Umm... I was just going to get some fresh air."

"Why have you changed? I like this!" he looked at her. "I got some more drinks, have a shot with me and Rich?" He pointed to the bar, directing her with an arm around her back. There were four shots of green liquid lined up.

"No, I'm not sure... I've had enough to drink tonight, I really need some fresh air."

"Come on Carla," Lewis smiled. "Where's Em?"

"Toilet," pointed Clara. That was going to be her stock answer from now on.

"Well, have hers then," he directed, "we'll get more." Clara had the two shots, their cheap medicinal flavour slipping easily down her throat.

"I really need to get some fresh air," said Clara as Lewis returned to kissing Rich. She made a bolt for the front door. She'd seen all she needed to see, she was drunk, seemed to be safe, doing a lot of kissing. She was about to put her hand on the TARDIS door handle when she heard a woman shouting behind her.

"Clara! Where are you going?!"


	13. Chapter 13

"What the hell," slurred Past Clara, "are you doing here?"

Clara walked ten metres or so back around the corner away from the TARDIS.

"You really need to go back inside," Clara warned her, folding her arms, pointing back where she had come, "you're really not supposed to see me."

"Why are you here?" Past Clara slurred.

"I was checking something, which I've done, and now I am going.," Clara strode back off around the corner.

"Wait!" Past Clara walked unsteadily towards her, using a hand against a wall to hold herself up.

"This, this is..." she paused, "embarrassing, I need to go."

"Wait," Past Clara said, accompanied by a large thud a few seconds after.

Clara turned around to see Past Clara sitting against the wall before the edge of the building, her arms crossed on her knees and head slumped forward. She was hidden from view from the TARDIS.

Clara rolled her eyes. She went over to check she hadn't properly passed out, but stopped when she heard Emily.

"Clara?" she shouted, "what are you doing out here? Come back in."

Emily was walking out of the front door of the bar. She couldn't risk being seen so she pulled back past the corner, hiding out of sight.

"Are you ok?" she heard Emily say.

Past Clara murmured lightly. Clara knew this was what had happened, Past Clara Was in no state to move, let alone go back to Emily's and spend all night having sex. Her interest was well and truly piqued now.

"For fuck's sake, get up, it's freezing! Come back in."

"What's going on?" said Lewis.

"She's a fucking lightweight," Emily laughed. "I told you. Impressed she had managed this long to be honest."

"Well," said Lewis, "at least Carla hasn't-"

Clara heard a noise that was unmistakably someone vomiting.

"-ejected." Clara was mortified. "Oh Carla... she was doing just fine about ten minutes ago. She just had two shots, didn't bat an eyelid. Was also wearing different clothes."

"There was some woman that looked very like her who knocked me over, Bitch. Maybe it was her?" Clara nodded, that was obviously the most reasonable explanation.

"I was sure it was Carla..." Lewis trailed off. "Bitch, took my shots!"

"What the fuck are we going to do with her?" said Emily, standing back, folding her arms. "We can't leave her like this."

"Can we get her home?" Lewis said, standing next to Emily, folding his arms too.

"I don't know where she lives," sighed Emily. "I don't think we can send a taxi to somewhere in Clapham."

"Clapham?!" Lewis laughed. "Fuck that shit!" Clara tried to hold in her laughter, well, at least they were trying.

"Do you think we'll be able to put her in a taxi and get her back to ours?"

"With some difficulty, probably. You can go on the sick side," he laughed.

"Thanks," Emily said sarcastically.

"Your date, your problem," Lewis said, "looks like you're in for a fun night!"

"Fuck off." Emily laughed.

"Good job she is fit," said Lewis, "if she was anything less than an 8 this would be hilarious."

"She is fit, isn't she?" Emily sighed. "Really really annoying."

"I'll get Rich and we can get a taxi back. There's a cab office over the road." Well at least they were looking after her, not leaving her alone.

"I need to get my stuff," said Emily, "I'll wait with sickie here."

"Sickie?" Clara said to herself. She heard Lewis walking off across the gravel.

"For fuck's sake," Emily sighed.

...

Clara thought back, she remembered that she woke up in her bed wearing the jumper she was currently wearing. What had happened? Could she get drunk Clara into the TARDIS and take herself home? Would the Doctor take her back? That sounded the most reasonable explanation. She could get the Doctor to bring her back sometime else, couldn't she?

She went back into the TARDIS.

"Doctor?" said Clara.

"Have you finished?" he said, appearing from the basement.

"Not quite..." she paused. "I have a theoretical question for you..."

"Then I shall give you a theoretical answer."

"If I got very, very drunk-"

"I think that's more of a when than an if," he said under his breath, interrupting her.

"-would you be able to drop me home? So that I was safe?"

"Theoretically, if it was a question of keeping you safe, then yes." He looked at her. "Why?"

"Ok, then, theoretically, we have a situation outside." Clara pointed backwards.

"Oh no, not again, come on!" he said."The TARDIS is not your personal booze bus!"

"Remember when you dropped me in Glasgow, and I could have very nearly died in a ditch? That might just happen tonight if you don't help me." She was stretching the truth a little bit, or at least she hoped she was.

"Ok," he said. "Where are you?"

"Just outside," said Clara.

They walked to the TARDIS door and the Doctor took a look around. Past Clara was still on the floor, Emily was on the phone, a little further towards the bar entrance.

Clara walked up to herself and helped her up with the Doctor's help. She was able to walk, with both of them supporting. Thankfully Emily didn't turn around.

"I am not happy about this," the Doctor said sternly to Clara, "at all."

"Do you think I'm happy?" snapped Clara, "look at the state of me!" She looked down at herself, "and I've somehow managed to get the sick side. Good-o!"

They managed to get Past Clara into the TARDIS, the Doctor set the co-ordinates for Clara's flat, and they put her safely into bed. Clara looked down at her jumper, covered in vomit and recoiled. She changed it for something different.

"If I was wearing this jumper when I woke up," said Clara. "Then I should fix the clothes shouldn't I? Or it might cause some sort of spacial collapse or something?"

"I don't think a jumper will be the problem Clara," the Doctor said.

"Yeah, but still..." Clara removed the red shirt from Past Clara and put on the blue jumper. "Are you seriously telling me that you've never taken yourself home drunk in 2000 years?"

"No," said the Doctor, narrowing his eyes, "I have not."

"Maybe you should-"

There was a bright flash and a loud noise that came from inside the TARDIS, the doors flew open, sending a stiff breeze around the room.

"Oh no no no," said the Doctor, aiming the sunglasses at the TARDIS.

"What's happening?" said Clara.

"The TARDIS has realised that you've messed with your own time steam," said the Doctor, "it's trying to rebalance the particles."

"Didn't it realise there were two of us in the TARDIS earlier?" said Clara, the air in the room was swirling around, to the level of a tornado.

"Obviously not," said the Doctor. "It probably only detected one conscious being," he sneered sarcastically.

"Shut up. What do we do?" shouted Clara.

"It's going to suck all of your atoms in," shouted the Doctor.

"Quite attached to all of my atoms," said Clara, a little scared now. Clara looked down at her right hand, the tips of her fingers were dissolving into small flickers of light. "What the hell is happening to me?" she screamed. She felt a burning sensation on the parts dissipating.

"To be fair, I told you it was a bad idea..." he said.

"This is not the right time for a lecture!" Clara shouted at him. Her right hand and half of the forearm had completely disappeared.

"I don't know what to do," said the Doctor.

"Think out loud then, work something out, come up with a plan," said painfully.

"The TARDIS is dissolving all of your atoms-" the Doctor said, pointing at her. The right elbow and the fingertips of the left hand were beginning to disappear.

"I can see that!" she shouted loudly.

"Seems to be turning you into some sort of atom cloud to go into the time vortex," the Doctor said, "how strange."

"Doctor!" Clara said, scared. Both arms had now fully disappeared.

"So it's making all of your atoms into a cloud, swirling them around a bit, pulling them in, why would it be doing that?"

"Doctor!" Clara screamed, "I feel like my whole body is on fire, being ripped apart from the inside."

"Which to be fair," he half smiled, "it probably is. No, I'm missing something. Why is it only you affected? Why not your past self?"

"If you are planning on doing something clever, now is the time to do it!" shouted Clara, her whole body beginning to haze over.

"No, that won't work." He said to himself, shaking his head. "We can't put everything back to what it was, everything's all happened and is all tangled up."

"Doctor!" yelled Clara, fading. Her whole body felt numb, she couldn't move anything, it was like her insides were being ripped to outside, her whole body was melting, turning around, falling apart at the seams. She felt a bright white light surround her whole body, an echoing scream ringing in her ears and a numb buzzing tingling all over.

...

Clara opened her eyes, she found herself looking down at a floor, head in her hands. She lifted her head and inhaled heavily, a deep gasping breath that made her throw her head back violently. It caused her to collapse on the floor and convulse all over. Her head felt like it was swimming. She couldn't get any words out.

"Oh my god, what's happening?" a faint voice said.

"Is she ok? Looks like she is having some sort of fit," another faint voice said.

"Quick," someone shouted, "call an ambulance."

"Someone help her, please!" a fourth voice screamed. "Help her!"

Clara heard the voices swirl around her as she began to focus on her sensations. An intense tingling was permeating every inch of skin. A piercing headache hit her right in the centre of her forehead. A dizzy swirling covered her eyes as she tried to focus on things around her.

The voices around her became clearer, her vision became lessed hazed and the headache began to subside. She felt competent enough to sit up, putting her back against the wall.

"Hey, hey, hey, steady," a voice said to her.

"Where am I?" Clara just about managed to force out. She looked around, trying to find something to reference.

"It's ok, she's awake," said another voice.

"What's going on?" said Clara, rubbing her eyes.

"I think you like passed out or had some sort of fit or something," said a female voice, "fucking scary!"

"Do you think she's OK?" a male voice said.

"I'm fine," said Clara, massaging her temples.

"We should really get her home," said the male voice.

"Clara, do you think you can stand?" said the female voice, she looked up in the direction of the face talking to her. It was Emily.

"Emily," Clara said, "you're here."

"Of course I'm fucking here!" she said, "can you get up? Give me a hand will you?"

Clara felt herself being pulled up to her feet, her legs unable to support any weight yet.

"Rich, help me," the male voice said.

"Lewis," Clara said, pointing at him.

"Fucking hell Em, where did you find this one?!"

"I know, I know," said Emily, "save the lecture, she can have the sofa tonight, we'll chuck her out in the morning. Let me go and get her stuff." Someone was checking her pockets.

Clara began to find some strength returning to her legs, able to move one foot in front of the other.

"What's happening?" said Clara, feeling marginally more coherent. They were walking across a main road so big it looked like it might never end. It was freezing.

"Carla, dearest, you're fucked," said Lewis, looking at her, smiling.

"I'm cold," Clara shivered.

They eventually reached pavement on the other side. Clara felt she could hold some weight now. Only one person was holding her up now. She suddenly felt warm.

"What the fuck do you mean?" said Lewis, away from her. "She's perfectly fine, she's just had a little too much, that's all."

"Fuck's sake," Emily said. "Can you walk?" Emily said at her.

Clara walked a few unsteady paces and then found she was able to walk unaided.

"Ok then," said Lewis, "let's walk. Fuck these bastards."

"My atoms are rearranging themselves back," said Clara, taking tentative steps. "That's good."

"If that's what you want to call this," Emily grabbed her arm, "come on."

Clara shook her head and found it cleared her vision. She looked around, Emily was holding her up, Lewis and Rich were about twenty paces in front of them.

"Where are we?" said Clara, able now to stand up straight, suddenly more coherent. She was in the middle of a graveyard. "What's just happened?"

"You passed out, had some fucking fit or something," said Emily.

"How did I get there?"

"You were apparently following your future self," Emily laughed.

"I was?" said Clara, remembering. "What was she doing here?"

"It's ok, you're drunk, just seeing double, that's all. She looked vaguely like you in the dark to give you credit. Maybe I should have taken her home instead," Emily pushed her playfully.

"I am future me!" said Clara. She looked down at her clothes, she was wearing the red shirt and green jacket. The TARDIS must have replaced her at the moment their time streams collided. It was not something she intended to repeat.

"Yes, of course you are," Emily smiled.

"Do I still look the same?" Clara asked, feeling her face.

"Yes," said Emily, confused.

"Am I still an 8?" she said laughing, pointing to Lewis.

"You heard that?" Emily blushed. "Lewis!" she shouted.

"Yes, Ems?" he turned around.

"There seems to be some sort of miraculous recovery going on here," she said. "I think she's alright now."

"Is Carla back in the room?" he looked at her. "Yes! She is!"

Clara smiled at him.

"Thank fuck for that, Drunk Carla is a bit scary," Lewis said. "Looks like your night's improved dramatically Em." He laughed and jogged in front to catch Rich up."

"Shut up-" Emily said.

"To be fair," she said at Emily, "I did warn you," she laughed. Now she'd recovered, the feelings of wanting to have Emily all to herself were beginning to surface again.

"You are fucking hilarious," Emily smirked. She lit a cigarette as they walked, moving her free hand to Clara's.

They approached Emily's place, the surroundings familiar. Clara fought off the urge to kiss Emily as they walked in the door, saving it for when they were inevitably alone.

Lewis immediately went in search of drinks when they got in. She was a lot less nervous than the last time she'd been here. He offered her a shot.

"I think I've had enough," sighed Clara, shaking her head. "I can't risk another... whatever that was." She had other things to do right now.

"Em?" Lewis offered. "Nightcap?"

"Go on then," Emily said before she threw back the tequila. She leant up against the kitchen counter.

Clara could feel herself getting impatient. Lewis was distracted in the living room, drinking shots with Rich. Clara walked over to her and put her arms around Emily's waist, looking at her in the same way she'd done earlier that morning in her own kitchen.

Clara went in for a kiss to find Emily pulling away from her.

"What do you think you're doing, get off me!" Emily said playfully, with a smile.

"What?" said Clara, confused.

"Get off me!" she said loudly, laughing.

"What's the matter?" said Clara, confused.

"You've been sick," Emily jabbed a finger into her chest. "I am not doing anything until you sort yourself out."

"Past me was sick," Clara sighed to herself. Nodding. Emily was right of course. This was not going to be as easy as she thought.

"I don't care which one of you was sick-"

"Yeah, sort it out, sickie!" offered Lewis.

"Sickie! Oh yeah, that's what you called me..." she trailed off. "Ok, ok..." She slunk off in the direction of the bathroom.

"Last door on the right," Emily called down the hallway.

Clara locked herself in the bathroom. Banging her head on the door. She should probably just leave, say goodbye and phone the Doctor. Where had he gone earlier? She took off her shirt,, now wearing just a vest. This was so embarrassing, she just wanted to dissipate again.

She crept out of the bathroom, hearing them talking.

"-if she was going to fuck off she'd have done it already."

"I know," said Emily, "I'm not sure I'm... you know."

"Get over yourself, live a little. What do you think, Rich?"

"She seems... nice." This from a man he met two hours ago.

"See, even Rich likes her! You almost slept with her earlier anyway," Lewis said in a sing song tone, he had spotted her.

"Not quite," Emily laughed.

"She's very drunk and suggestible?" he said.

"Yeah..." she sighed.

"And still here. Oh, Carla, there you are," Lewis said loudly. "See look, she's already removing her clothes, always a good sign."

"I'm sorry?! Drunk and suggestible?" Clara said folding her arms.

"Lewis, I swear-"

"And so feisty!" Lewis said, "love it."

Emily shook her head, turned to look at her and roll her eyes. "I hate you," she said, walking up to Clara, smiling.

"No you don't," he called, "and keep the noise down."

She narrowed her eyes and shook her head, pushing Clara back towards her bedroom. Emily opened the door and ushered Clara inside.


	14. Chapter 14

"How much of that did you hear?" Emily blushed.

"Not much," Clara said, "most of it."

"I've told you he's a prick," Emily said.

"I believe you, when he locked me out of-" she stopped herself. "You know," she took a pace up to Emily, dropping her shirt on the floor, "I'm not drunk and suggestible."

"Oh really?" said Emily, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not drunk any more, although," she paused, "I will probably not remember a thing about tonight tomorrow."

"Fuck off," Emily said, "nobody recovers that quickly. Impossible."

"Call me," she smiled, "The impossible girl, or don't, because that's a bit weird," she trailed off slowly.

"Yes it is," Emily laughed. "So..." she paused, putting her arms around Clara's waist.

"So... what?" Clara echoed her, smiling.

"If you don't want to do anything, that's fine," Emily said nervously. Why was she nervous? Clara was about to launch at her but thought better of it. "I know what you straight girls are like."

"Straight girl?" Clara couldn't help but laugh to herself. She was beginning to get impatient again. "I'm not sure I'm going to know what to do?" she lied.

"Well, maybe you should let me show you?" smiled Emily, pulling Clara close. The familiar curves pressing against her, instantly igniting a spark inside Clara. She went in for the kiss first, running her tongue along Emily's lips and feeling her respond back.

Clara took her hand up to Emily's neck as they kissed, slow at first, becoming more urgent. Emily put her left hand up the back of Clara's vest, riding it up, pulling it up gently until it was off. Clara watched Emily's eyes twinkle as she looked down, feeling her moving her hand around the newly exposed unfamiliar skin.

Clara went back to kiss Emily, undoing her shirt button by button until she could edge it off, desperate to remove every bit of clothing from her as quickly as possible. Emily was taking more time, using her fingers to explore Clara's body.

Clara kissed Emily's neck gently, pushing her back towards the door, she pulled off the two vest tops and went for the button on Emily's trousers, undoing it easily, running her hands down the exposed waist.

Emily straightened herself up off the door and pushed Clara backwards towards the bed, swallowing hard as she paused, looking for Clara's reaction.

Clara used the distraction to take hold of her and threw Emily onto the bed, straddling her.

"I knew it! You have done this before!" Emily said, laughing.

"I might have..." Clara teased her. She knew exactly what she wanted to do right now.

"And I am not complaining," Emily said. "Just unexpected."

"Are you going to shut up so I can carry on or...?" Clara said impatiently.

"Yes miss," Emily smirked up at her. Clara felt Emily's hands undoing her trousers.

"I told you already to not do that," Clara warned her playfully.

"When?" Emily looked confused.

"Umm... I just did," Clara said, she kissed Emily's neck gently. "Anyway, shut up," she smiled.

"I cannot wait to see this!" She stifled a laugh, daring her on.

Clara raised her eyebrow, pausing before quickly pinning Emily to the bed and kissing her urgently. She could feel Emily fighting against her as they both tried to remove each other's clothes first, trying to wrestle control off each other.

The kiss was seemingly endless, punctuated only by an article of clothing being removed or a pause for a breath. Clara traced a finger down Emily's collar bone, smiling to herself, watching her wide eyed reaction, steadying herself before she pounced, making her move first, eyes glinting in the dim light.

...

Clara woke up the next morning, checking the time. 11 am. Emily was asleep next to her, as she had been since about a couple of hours after they'd got back. She attempted to go back to sleep but found she couldn't.

Clara smiled to herself, looking at Emily twisted up in the covers, she ran a finger down the length of her back. Emily stirred and turned over, resting an arm on Clara's chest. Clara saw a small smile raise on her face before she opened her eyes.

"Morning," Emily mumbled.

"Morning," Clara said, putting a hand around her waist inside the covers, enjoying how soft Emily's skin was.

"What time is it?" asked Emily.

"11," said Clara, dragging her hand lower.

"Too fucking early," Emily mumbled, her head in the pillow. "Go back to sleep." She made no attempt to move, smiling.

"Is it?" Clara said, with a raised eyebrow. "I don't think we finished last night, you fell asleep far too early..." Clara trailed her hand up to Emily's neck.

"What is wrong with you?" Emily laughed, opening her eyes. "You're like two different people since yesterday."

"What are you talking about?" Did she know?

"Miss-" Emily started.

"Don't call me that-"

"Miss I'm not ready umm kiss me as much as you want whatever," she paused, "and then you get drunk and turn into... into... whatever the fuck you were last night!" She sighed, "it's just weird... I mean... I don't mind... but..."

"I think it's the drink," lied Clara, "I told you Drunk... Carla is a complete nightmare."

Emily laughed. "Don't really remember much about what we were doing, as I was quite drunk."

"Maybe I could remind you before you take me for breakfast," said Clara, before she stopped herself.

"Breakfast?" Emily laughed. "So now I'm taking you out for meals as well? It's quite a commitment, you know, first breakfast, then may as well move all your stuff in and we can get a cat..." she said sarcastically.

"What?" Clara said, "why does everyone think I need a cat these days? The Doctor told me I needed a cat in my place the other day."

"Maybe he knows?" Emily joked.

"Knows what?" Clara said.

"You know, knows," Emily said, tilting her head.

"What are you talking about?" Clara said, sitting up a bit.

Emily looked at her, willing her on to a conclusion.

"No, I'm not," Clara said, realising. "No..."

"Last night says otherwise..." Emily laughed.

"Oh my god," said Clara. "He was upset the other day and stormed off, after you, err, I mean, he spent the day watching Breaking Bad in my flat-"

"Sounds like a good day," Emily said.

"It was... Apart from the bruises... Thanks for that," Clara laughed as she remembered. Wait, that hadn't happened yet.

"What?!" said Emily sitting up. "Did he hurt you?"

"No no no, he didn't," Clara sighed, this was going to be difficult to explain. "He caught me with some, err, unfortunately placed love bites," she blushed.

"Oh really?" Emily said. "And when was this?"

"Oh, err, maybe a few weeks ago. But that is a story for another time... maybe Saturday morning next week," she couldn't stop herself.

"You talk so much fucking shit, you know," Emily screwed up her eyes.

"I know, my mouth has got a mind of its own," she trailed off. "Sorry," she said bashfully.

"So this other thing you've got going on...?" Emily asked. "Is it serious? Not of course that it's any of my business..."

Clara knew she had to be careful with this answer. "It's not the Doctor, if that's what you mean."

"Well, yes, I know that," Emily asked, "I mean, is this like a one time thing, or is there someone else? Or...?"

Clara remembered Lewis warning her. "I'm not seeing anyone right now," she started, "and I enjoyed last night... a lot, and I'm still here aren't I?" she laughed.

Emily laughed in agreement, "I suppose that counts for something."

Clara put her hand on Emily's cheek, looking at her eyes. Clara moved her hand onto Emily's neck gently and moved down to plant a soft kiss on her lips, shifting her body towards Emily's, finding it reciprocated after a few seconds. The kiss was slow at first as Clara decided to hold off making any urgent movements, but then became much deeper as Emily decided to take control.

...

A while later they were interrupted by a loud bang on the door.

"Em, can I borrow your charger? Mine's fucked," Lewis shouted from the other side of the door. He banged again. "I know you're in there. I can hear you and or Carla... communicating loudly with each other."

"Fuck's sake," said Emily, emerging from underneath the covers a few seconds later. "Don't come in," she shouted.

"What are you doing?" breathed Clara.

"He's not going to leave me alone until I sort him out," said Emily, rolling out of bed.

"I will leave if you don't sort me out," Clara said under her breath.

There was another bang on the door.

"OK, OK, I'm getting it," shouted Emily, covering herself with the blue shirt dress she had stood wearing in Clara's kitchen yesterday. She opened the door a few inches and held out the charger to him. "I fucking hate you," Emily said.

"Good morning to you too Em," he said, sweetly. "Also, can I blag a few fags? I presume you have a lot left as you weren't doing much smoking last night."

Emily fished into her jeans on the floor, getting a crumpled packet of cigarettes out.

"Good morning, Carla," said Lewis, coming into the room. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," she said, trying to avoid looking at him, blushing.

Emily held out the cigarettes. "Get out!"

"Rich and I are thinking of going for breakfast in a bit at the caff, if you fancy coming?"

"Why is everyone going for breakfast this morning? We might be busy," said Emily still holding out the cigarettes.

"I think they do fish finger sandwiches?" he said, laughing, as Emily slammed the door on him.

"Fuck off!" shouted Emily, she removed the shirt dress and sat on the bed.

"Fish finger sandwiches?" laughed Clara. "What a delightful use of the English language."

"Yeah," said Emily, returning to her earlier position. "Anyway..."

...

Clara emerged out of Emily's room, dressed in last night's clothes about 1pm, heading towards the bathroom to get changed. They had decided that breakfast was a good idea, Emily was nursing a small hangover, and Clara was purely just hungry, she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. She smirked to herself, laughing.

After showering, she came back into Emily's room to dry her hair.

"Can I borrow something to wear?" said Clara, looking down at her shirt from the previous day, knowing it was covered in sick. "I'm not sure the caff is ready for me in just a vest top at this time in the morning... afternoon."

"Unless we want to eat for free," she smirked, looking at her chest. "Yeah, sure." Emily went to the wardrobe, she pondered over two shirts before passing her a turquoise green flannel shirt.

"Thanks," said Clara, putting it on.

She ventured out into the living room and found Lewis and Rich sat watching TV. She looked through a few cupboards to find an empty glass and got some water.

"Good morning Carla," said Lewis, turning round. "Nice to see you have eventually dressed for the occasion."

She blushed, not answering him.

"Come and join us," he moved up the sofa. "Jeremy Kyle's on. There's a paternity test."

Clara begrudgingly walked towards the sofa, sitting in the space he had made for her. He put his arm around her awkwardly, this was like being at work, when her boss put his hand on her shoulder.

"Rich, you met Carla last night, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he said, unflinching, offering no more response. He was tall and gangly, his limbs reminded Clara of a folded up spider. His dark brown hair was shaved at the back and sides, and was messy on top. He was wearing a long white t-shirt and black jeans, typing on a mobile phone connected to a charger.

"Hi Rich," Clara said, looking at him, waving a hand. He didn't look up. He was certainly charismatic.

"Are you feeling better? I presume Em sorted you out?" he said, eyes twinkling.

"Umm yeah, you know, I don't know what happened last night, I don't remember a lot of it," she blushed. "Thanks for helping me to get back last night, and not leaving me lying in a ditch."

"No problem," he said.

"And thanks for checking on me this morning," she said.

"I'm glad your lungs have recovered," he said sarcastically.

She swallowed awkwardly. "How long does Emily take to get ready?" she pondered, tapping her fingernails against the glass, looking back to Emily's room.

"Oh, she takes ages," Lewis said, "at least another hour."

"Great," Clara said sarcastically.

"I know," he said, "she likes to make herself vaguely presentable." His attention returned to the screen.

"How was your evening?" she asked after a few minutes.

"It was OK," Lewis said, "Rich stayed over."

"So who do you think is the father?" he pointed to the screen.

"Umm," she said, looking at the two men on the screen, trying to take stock quickly of all the facts. "I think it's the one on the right."

"Why?" said Lewis.

"I don't know, a gut feeling I guess," Clara said. "Better teeth?"

"Hmmm..." he said.

There was a commercial break just as the paternity test results were about to be revealed. Lewis stood up and walked towards the kitchen, finally removing his hand from her shoulder.

"Can I get you another coffee Rich?"

"Yeah," he replied, not looking up.

"Carla?" he said. The name was beginning to really irritate her now, but she could do with a coffee.

"Yes please," she said.

"I would ask how you take it," he said blankly, "but I think the whole flat already knows the answer to that is... loudly," he laughed.

"Funny," said Rich, still not looking up.

Clara rolled her eyes, setting her glass down and folding her arms, sighing, contemplating whether to go back to Emily's room.

"So?" he asked, sniggering "how many?"

Clara narrowed her eyes, looking directly ahead. "Milk and two," she said, annoyed.

"Em?" he shouted, "Coffee?"

"Please," she heard Emily shout from the bathroom.

Lewis returned with three mugs of coffee in his right hand, distributing them out, just in time for the end of the break. He sat back down next to her, passing her a mug that said 'I MISS DRUGS' in large letters. She took a sip, it was quite possibly the worst coffee she'd ever had, even worse than when the kids had made it at parent's evening last time. And that was saying something.

"You know Carla-"

"Clara," she interrupted.

"-whatever, your Scottish friend, the Doctor was it?"

"Yeah," she said, "hang on, how do you know he is Scottish? Did you speak to him?"

"We put him on loudspeaker and let him speak, couldn't understand a fucking thing he was saying," he laughed, "anyway..." he paused, "do you think he can score me some pills?"

"What?" said Clara.

"He's your dealer, right?" he asked, looking at her. Rich looked up for a brief moment.

"Err, no he's not," said Clara defiantly, sipping her disgusting coffee.

"The Doctor, that is a drug dealery name, isn't it?"

"He's not a drug dealer, at least I don't think he is," she said.

"Well, whatever you were on that brought you out of that near comatose dead epileptic fit lying in a ditch state last night, I want some," he said.

"I didn't take anything last night," she said, looking away.

"Really?" he said, incredulous.

"Really," she confirmed.

"Your mug says otherwise," he laughed. "So who is this Doctor if he's not a dealer?" he asked.

"He's a friend," said Clara, concentrating on the TV, they were preparing to reveal the paternity test results.

"How did you meet him? In Scotland?" said Lewis, one eye on the TV.

"No, he turned up at my house after I called a computer helpline," she answered, matter-of-factly. "Never been, but he once dropped me off in Glasgow by accident."

"Wait wait, who is it?" he looked at the TV, "oh," he said. "Of course it's someone else, waste of half an hour." He changed the channel to Deal or No Deal.

Emily appeared with her coffee on the arm of the sofa next to her. Clara felt a wave of relief wash over her.

"Move up then," she said.

"Carla was just telling us about her non-drug dealery friend," said Lewis, deliberately making space on the other side of him. "The man that turned up like a porn film, to insert his cable-"

"Erm... no I wasn't," said Clara. Emily sat in the space on the opposite side of the sofa.

Emily laughed. "Oh god, don't get her started on him, apparently he married Elizabeth the First."

"He must be old," said Lewis, "he sounded like a drunk Scottish bloke on 's day. Rich, did you meet Em last night?"

"Yeah," Rich said, not looking up.

"Morning Rich," said Emily, watching him for a reaction. Her eyes met Clara's and she raised her eyebrows in a look that instantly made her laugh. "Wow," she said under her breath.

"So who is ready for the caff then? I fancy a hangover breakfast."

"I could murder a bacon sandwich," said Emily, sipping her coffee.

"I'm starving, I can't remember the last time-" said Clara, instantly regretting her decision to speak up as Emily had difficulty swallowing her coffee.

"Is minge not a recognised food group then?" replied Lewis immediately. "Because I can tell you with absolute certainty that it was about 45 minutes ago."

"42 minutes," Rich piped up, not looking up from his phone.

Emily coughed out the caught liquid in the back of her throat. "Shut up, both of you," she half smiled, pushing Lewis in the chest.

Clara bit her tongue, folding her arms tightly, distinctively unimpressed, glaring out of the window.

"Leave her alone," Emily laughed.

"I'm sorry Carla," he sniggered. "You left yourself wide open for that didn't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I did," Clara laughed to herself, but then saw Lewis, Emily and Rich all looking back at her blankly.

"Not for the first time this morning," Lewis said after a beat.

"Three times, at least," Rich added.

"Seriously?" Clara felt herself blush heavily.

"Probably best to not say anything," said Emily, in her direction.

"Yeah," Clara said.

"Come on Carla," Lewis said, "we're only joking. If you are going to do lesbian things, you can't expect the piss to not be taken out of you."

"She's straight," Emily said, clearly baiting him, "not used to it."

"Straight, my arse," Lewis said. "She's spent more time with her tongue in you than not for the last 24 hours."

"I'm sorry?!" said Clara, beginning to get annoyed. "Do you fucking mind?"

Emily looked at her, trying to control her laugher, raising an eyebrow.

"Woah, Carla, calm down, it's ok, we're just taking the piss."

"You've been taking the fucking piss out of me all fucking morning!" Clara shouted.

"To be fair you've not made it very difficult," Lewis replied, smiling.

"Just because I'm apparently-" Clara said loudly.

"She's even hotter when she's angry, isn't she?" Emily said under her breath to Lewis, as she was talking.

"I know, right?" said Lewis, leaning back to look at her, "she could possibly be a nine right now."

"-does not give you the right to..." she sighed, "shut up, both of you," shouted Clara, slightly quieter, having heard what they said. She could cope with a nine. "So are we going for breakfast because," she sighed, "I can't take any more of this."

A pause hung in the air.

"Is no-one else going to say it? Really?" said Lewis.

"Say what?" said Clara angrily, "sorry?"

"That's what she said."


	15. Chapter 15

The four of them left the flat, Clara was last to leave, she shut the door behind her and froze when she saw the TARDIS on the opposite side of the road, where it had picked her up the day the Doctor had dropped her off at school on Wednesday. The cafe they were heading to was in the other direction. There were a few people milling around the box.

"Ummm... I need to go and get some cash," said Clara, spying an ATM next to the TARDIS. "I'll catch you up."

"Yes!" said Lewis. "Breakfast is on Carla!"

"Err, no it's not," said Clara, walking off across the road, as the three of them disappeared.

Claa went up to the TARDIS, found it to be open and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.

"Doctor?" said Clara, striding into the centre of the console room.

"Down here," said the Doctor from below her. Clara jogged down the staircase to see him.

"What are you doing here?" Clara asked.

"Fixing a broken drive crank, it's had atoms of you all over it," the Doctor said as he tinkered with a bit of machinery.

"Bit weird...I mean here, this location."

"Well, I figured if I waited here long enough you'd see me," he said, not acknowledging her.

"Ok, so where are we, what was our last place we went to?"

"Babylon," the Doctor said.

"Ok," said Clara. "Are you still upset with me?"

"For making me go back on my own time stream to rescue your drunk self? I have a drive crank here that is still getting over it, still covered in you."

"No, that's still very weird," Clara reflected, "but yeah, that could be one reason," said Clara, to herself, "or after you found out about me and Emily?"

"I told you, you can have a relationship with whomever you want, I told you you needed to get a hobby or something, and now you've got one, so good for you," he said, "go off and canoodle or spoon or facebook or procreate or whatever it is you do."

"Not planning to procreate right now," Clara said matter-of-factly, "and 100% not possible in current confguration of relationship."

"If you say so," said the Doctor.

"Look, I'm going for breakfast around the corner, I need to go."

"A breakfast?"

"Yes, a breakfast?" Clara said, "you know the meal you have at the beginning of the day?"

"I know what a breakfast is Clara, I'm a Time Lord," the Doctor said flippantly.

"Ok, well, you clearly missed the memo on modesty, just saying," Clara said sarcastically, turning away from him.

"Never need to wait for breakfast Clara," he sighed. "Tell you what," he said brightly, pushing past her towards the middle level of the TARDIS.

"And on spacial awareness," she said under her breath, begrudgingly following him up the stairs.

"How do you fancy going to meet a friend of mine on the Hagatraxus Nebula, cruise ship, in space? Apparently it is going to blow up in about" he checked his watch, "eight hours." He held his hand on the switch. "There's a whole deck for cocktails?"

"A cocktail deck?" Clara raised her eyebrow. "Interested."

"I'll bring you back right here when we're done," he smiled, flipping the switch.

"If these cocktails are rubbish, like the last time, I will not be happy."

"Are you ever happy?"

"No," she screwed up her eyes.

...

They were on the cruise ship for three days, after it was taken hostage by intergalactic space pirates, intent on mining the uranium from inside the nuclear reactors. What was the ship blowing up turned out to be a teleport stasis. Clara and the other passengers had spent two days tied up on the floor in the dining room, thankfully not one of the people thrown off the bridge when the ship's crew revolted. She had managed to, with the help of others, break some glass and use it to rip through the heavy ropes securing her arms, freeing one hundred people to lead an assault on the people holding the lower areas. The Doctor had been captured and taken to the bridge, and had taken four days to secretly make the communication probe resonate to the exact frequency of the search and rescue channel.

The passengers were rescued, the cruise ship was returned to its normal place and they found the TARDIS floating invisible in a nearby galaxy.

"Am I grateful to be back here!" exclaimed Clara, spinning around on the spot. "You said a couple of cocktails, and it's been three days," she laughed. The dark red cocktail dress she'd changed into was ruined, ripped and filthy. "And they were rubbish."

"So, now we can go for breakfast," said the Doctor.

"I didn't invite you, and I'm not sure that's a good idea," said Clara.

"Of course it is, won't be awkward at all. I could do with a decent meal, so could you by the look of you."

Clara changed into the clothes she'd left for herself, Emily's shirt included.

"Is that a new shirt? I haven't seen that one before. Doesn't seem your usual size," said the Doctor.

"Correct, it's not mine," she said, looking at herself in the mirror, "I've lost weight," she said, realising her trousers were marginally looser. "How am I going to explain this?"

"That's why you're going for breakfast, isn't it? To feed yourself? Makes perfect sense. Unless the people you are going with are planning to feel your ribs as a greeting."

"Can you tell?" said Clara.

"Your face is marginally narrower," he said. "But we are talking milimeters."

"I am not sure if I should say thank you or slap you," she said slowly.

"I'd prefer thank you," the Doctor said, wandering off in the direction of the door. "So where are we going for breakfast? The Ritz? The Savoy? Somewhere nice?"

"Err no," said Clara, "we are, were, will be in Whitechapel. It's a caff. It will be really boring."

"Don't you mean a cafe?" said the Doctor. "I'll let you off as it's technically a French word, not your speciality with all the English, is it?"

"I know the word cafe," she shook her head. "I think this is a builder's caff."

"But we're not builders?" he said, confused, putting the TARDIS back where they had come from. "And it's a Sunday afternoon. Builders don't work over the weekend, Clara, that's an established fact everywhere around the galaxy. This I have to see."

"Come on then," she said painfully, pushing out of the TARDIS doors.

She could just about see the others about fifty metres down the road, finishing their cigarettes. Clara walked with the Doctor up towards where they were.

The Doctor looked up at the sign of the cafe, disdainfully. "Who is Eddie?"

"I don't know," said Clara, beginning to wonder if this was a good idea. She had put the flash cards in her pocket just in case.

"I've taken you to some of the best and exciting places in the universe..." he peered inside the window of the cafe, "and this is where you take me? Eddie's Caff? Where are the builders?" There were a few other people eating inside.

"Come on," she pushed him inside, watching him grimace.

"Ohh, here she is," said Lewis, "who's your friend?" he said, pointing at the Doctor. He glared back at Lewis, as if looking at a bad smell.

"Everyone, this is the Doctor," said Clara, awkwardly. "He decided he wanted to come for breakfast. Because apparently this," she pointed around her, "is not awkward enough."

"Hello, pudding brains-" he started before Clara elbowed him in the stomach. "Hello, barely sentient locals-"

"A simple hello will do," she muttered. "We have Emily, who you've met, sort of, when I was at that bar yesterday where you gave me that note-"

"Oh, well, that was ages ago," said the Doctor, "a good five, six days." Emily waved at him.

"No," said Clara, correcting him, "it was yesterday. Then we have Lewis, Emily's flatmate."

"Hi Doctor," Lewis said.

"And then we have... Rich, a friend of Lewis's."

"Yeah," said Rich, not looking up from his phone.

The Doctor, looked at Rich and then back at Clara. "Hello...?" he said walking up to him. "Is he serious?" he pointed at Rich, facing Clara. "Since when is a phone more interesting and important than me?" he said, taking Rich's phone out of his hand and holding it above his head, reading the messages. "Clara, I think I found the builders, this website is named after a cutting tool... although I don't think you'll like the spelling, missing the last vowel." He flicked through the screen, pacing around the table as Rich gazed up at him, "nothing interesting on there, not very many vowels, too many pictures of... err... you can have that back... and delete your internet history," he held the phone by the top left corner and dangled it back down to Rich, who looked around at the Doctor and then went back to how he had been.

Emily laughed. "Is he for fucking real?" she said to Lewis. Lewis shrugged.

"So which one of you is the leader? Who do I need to ignore this time?"

"Doctor," she sighed. "There is no leader here, just five people having breakfast," she said, sitting down on the empty seat next to Emily.

"Let's see, two people is a couple or a pair, three people colloquially a crowd," he reeled off, still pacing around the table, "more than a string quartet but less than in S Club 7, unless two more friends are coming. So is this technically a party? Those S Clubs loved a party, didn't they?"

Clara realised she was probably the only person that would get that reference around the table and immediately felt old. "Doctor," she hissed at him, "sit down."

"There's more people collectively here than were in the Beatles, and look what they achieved! Well, not if you don't include him," he pointed at Rich.

"Yeah," said Rich.

He sat at the head of the table, pulling across an unused chair, looking at everyone, and then he smiled.

"No, no, please don't smile," Clara said to him, quietly. She put her hands around the cards in her jacket pocket.

"I recognise this one," he said, pointing to Emily. "She's Jack the Ripper, oh wait, hang on, you said she wasn't..."

"Yes, Emily was there yesterday, remember," she willed the Doctor on.

"So, which one are you? Netflix or Chill? Or are you both? Netflix and Chill?" the Doctor said, suspisciously eying Emily.

"Is he coming on to me?" Emily stared at the Doctor, scared, aiming her words at Clara.

"No, he is not," said Clara, as if stating an absolute fact.

"No, you're even younger than her," he pointed to Clara, "I don't know you well enough, and I thought you two were, you know, procreating-."

This was even worse than in the flat. "Doctor!" Clara interrupted him. Lewis had a massive grin on his face.

The waitress came over, she was blonde, thin, late 40s. "What can I get you loveys?"

"Are you Eddie?" said the Doctor.

"No, he's off today, I'm his wife, RIta," she smiled.

"Eddie actually exists!" he said to Clara, "I immediately feel much better."

"I surprisingly do not," said Clara, sarcastically, ignoring him.

"I'll have the Full English," said Lewis. "Extra sausage," said without the slightest hint on smut. Clara and Emily both looked at Lewis, Emily tilted her head and rolled her eyes.

"Same," raised Rich, not looking up.

"I think we've found the barely sentient local, Clara," said the Doctor, perusing the menu. "I do wonder if you going to be able to tear yourself away from Grindr without the E for long enough to eat?" mused the Doctor, not raising his head. "This is fascinating. I'll look forward to those results."

"And for you, dears?" Rita said, directed at Emily and Clara. Clara was still glaring at the Doctor.

"Bacon sandwich," said Emily, "and chips."

"And I will have," she paused, seeing Lewis sniggering out of the corner of her eye, "cheese omelette and chips." There was no possible sexual innuendo from that.

"Eggs, of course," the Doctor said quietly, laughing.

"Probably best to give her a small portion of chips," said Lewis, laughing, "she's already had several quite substantial meals today."

"Do you mind?!" said Clara, annoyed.

"Have you seen her?" the Doctor pointed at Clara. "She's thin as a rake, hasn't eaten for three days, poor thing, she needs all the food she can get, she's a stone lighter than yesterday."

"A stone?!" said Clara, "you said it was barely noticeable! A stone is more than barely noticeable!"

"I bet she is," said Lewis, "with all the exercise and calories she has used up"

"I was trying to be nice, and you can only see it when you're not wearing that jacket," said the Doctor to Clara. "You," he pointed at Lewis, "are correct, it is due to all the calories she used up. Well done, how are you doing that?" he raised an eyebrow.

Clara put her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands, sighing.

"And what can I get you?" said Rita to the Doctor, laughing to herself.

"I'll have one breakfast," he said, putting down the menu. "And a builder's tea, I've heard such good reviews." He smiled at her.

"Is that tea for everyone?" Rita asked, scribbling on her order pad. There was a murmuring of agreement. "So nice to see a dad taking his kids out for breakfast at the weekend," she smiled, patting the Doctor on the shoulder and disappeared into the back of the cafe.

Clara blurted out a laugh. Lewis smiled widely.

"Classic," said Rich.

"Hang on, did she just say I was all of your dads?" the Doctor said turning around in his chair. "Why would she say that?" he turned around confused.

"Might be the face," Clara said, smirking. "Might be the hair. Might be the clothes. Should I carry on?"

"No, please don't," said the Doctor. "Is my daughter here?" he glanced around the cafe.

"She's not here," said Clara.

"Good, I'm not sure I can deal with that as well today," said the Doctor, breathing a sigh of relief.

"What was on that note you gave Clara yesterday?" said Emily.

"That is a question I would very much like to know the answer to as well," said the Doctor, pointing to Emily, "she is asking excellent questions, Clara, take a leaf out of her book." He stopped after her realised what he'd said, they'd lost the leaf that brought her parents together on Ahkaten. "Sorry, I didn't mean that, it's a turn of phrase-"

"Surprisingly OK with that right now," said Clara, blushing.

"What was so important I had to travel halfway across London to deliver to you?" said the Doctor.

"It was nothing," Clara stumbled.

"It certainly wasn't a shopping list," said the Doctor.

"The paper was blank, had some sort of magic ink that disappeared on it," said Emily. "I thought you might know something, being magiciany and all that."

"Magiciany?" he sighed. "Clara, as an English teacher, I really hope you are going to correct your friend's blatant use of adjectivising a noun."

"Surprisingly OK with that too right now," said Clara.

"Do I really look like a magician?" he said, adjusting the hoodie he was wearing underneath the jacket obviously. "I thought a hoodie would cancel out the magician. They seemed to be mutually exclusive. At least they were until Dynamo turned up."

"You still look like a magician-" Clara said, they all spoke together.

"Magiciany-" said Emily.

"Very much like a magician-"

"Same-" said Rich.

"So what was on the note?" said Emily.

"You," said the Doctor, pointing to Emily, "I like your focus."

"It was," she sighed, thinking up an excuse. "It was a way of getting away."

"Oh," laughed Emily, "run out of carrier pigeons, did he?"

"He looks like a quill and ink man to me," Lewis offered, grinning. "So Carla was trying to do a runner? And that early in the night Em, as well. Does not bode well."

"Fuck off, Lewis," Emily snapped.

"Who is... Carla?" said the Doctor, eyes flicking around the room. "Are we expecting someone else? I mean, the configuration of seats only facilitates five people. What are we going to do?"

"My mum once said something like that once," said Emily, laughing.

"Carla," said Clara sighing, "That's me. That's what he calls me."

"Why have you got another name?" asked the Doctor, confused. "Why do you need another name? Is your face that wide you need two names and three mirrows now?"

"That, now that is an excellent question," Clara directed at Lewis, using it, probably unwisely, as an opportunity to goad him. "And shut up."

"Have I been pronouncing it wrong all this time?" the Doctor reflected. "I can't keep up, first the whole biting people that you love thing, and now your name..."

"No Doctor, you haven't, he is winding me up," Clara said, resigned, when a surprising wave of rebellion hit her. "Maybe I should start calling him Lewis pronounced Louise."

"Oh Carla, do you really want to start something right now?" he slung right back, smiling evilly.

"Good one," said Rich, still not looking up.

"Stop it, both of you," Emily interjected.

"Why are you two arguing?" the Doctor said. "Her eyes are turning on." He pointed to her, whispering to everyone else, "and we do not need a public activation right now."

Clara glanced at the Doctor, and then she Lewis aimed glares at each other for a few seconds. Clara was convinced she won the stare out as the drinks arrived, breaking her attention.

"Here we go loveys," said Rita, dishing out the teas, smiling.

"Why do you think I'm their, collective pronoun, dad?" asked the Doctor.

"Oh, I thought you were, you look a lot like the quiet one," she said, "sorry love, didn't mean to offend you. I thought it was sweet, nice to see." Rita went back to the kitchen.

"If she is calling me love, does that mean I have to bite her?" the Doctor asked.

"No, please don't," sighed Clara, "that's not how it works."

"Maybe I should ask your bitey friend?" said the Doctor under his breath, pointing at Emily. "She seems to be doing very well at it."

"Please don't, that hasn't happened yet," she whispered, blushing. Emily was distracted pouring at least five sugars into her tea.

Clara went for the sugar pot, finding herself holding it with Lewis opposite her, they both tugged at it for a few seconds before Clara released it to him, still glaring. He grinned back at her.

"So Doctor," said Lewis, a glint in his eye. "Tell us how you met Carla, when you worked at the computer helpline, and then came round to her house."

Clara inhaled and exhaled loudly, shaking her head slightly.

"Well, yes, that's how it went," the Doctor said, putting a copious amount of sugar in his tea, "she couldn't find the wifi."

Emily and Lewis both burst out laughing.

"Mental," said Rich.

Clara put her right arm on the table, leaning her head against it, using her free hand to tip three sugars into her tea, ignoring them.

"Hang on," said Lewis, "did I hear that right," he said, inhaling his laughter, "she couldn't find the wifi? She had to," he repeated slowly, "call a computer helpline, because," he paused, "she couldn't find the wifi?" He snorted, "how old are you actually?"

"Hilarious," said Emily, laughing at her, putting a hand on her leg, "you did not tell me that. That is fucking hilarious."

"A guy came round your house to help you connect to the wifi?" sniggered Lewis. "That is a basic life skill."

"I know!" said the Doctor, "she seems to be having trouble with basic life skills at the moment. She forgot how to tell the time twice this week. Glad I'm not the only one who's noticed."

"Doctor, will you please shut up," she warned sternly, raising a hand up, "or I am going to slap you so hard with that imaginary shovel you seem to be very proficient in using."

"Yes, boss," the Doctor said, immediately backing down. Emily and Lewis watched on, fascinated.

"She's turning into a nine again, isn't she," said Lewis quietly, to Emily.

Emily nodded, smiling.

"So what? You went round and inserted your cable into her socket?" Lewis asked seriously. Emily laughed once to herself.

"Well no," the Doctor paused, smiling, "I went round dressed as a monk and she slammed the door in my face-"

"Seems like one of my better decisions right now," said Clara under her breath.

"-I got changed and went back," the Doctor continued.

"Obviously," interjected Emily.

"And then when she wouldn't answer the door, I broke in and found a little girl trying to-"

"She was being attacked by a little girl?!" said Lewis, jumping to conclusions.

"Something like that," said the Doctor. Clara tried kicking him under the table.

"You literally cannot make this stuff up," Lewis laughed. "Attacked by a little girl, Carla?" he grinned at her, "what happened then?"

"Then I fixed her washing machine, we stopped a plane from crashing into her street, and I rode a motorbike up the Shard. There may have been some other non-important stuff happening. I only remember the impressive things that I did."

"Cool," said Rich.

"How about me finding where their headquarters was?" said Clara, "don't remember that?"

"Like I said, non-important," the Doctor dismissed her.

"Of course," Clara said sarcastically, she stirred her tea.

"You did not ride a motorbike up the Shard," Emily said, stating a fact.

"You're right," the Doctor nodded at her, "I didn't. How are you doing that? No, I made myself into a walking base station that did it for me." He lowered his voice, "I was in a cafe in St. Paul's sipping tea."

"At least I now know you are both fucking mental," Emily said, laughing.


	16. Chapter 16

Rita arrived with their food, Clara was grateful for the distraction, this awkward breakfast needed to end, and it needed to end soon.

"Enjoy," Rita said to the table before walking off.

"Is this a breakfast?" said the Doctor, looking down at his plate with a full english on it, and then back up at Clara.

"Yes, that is a breakfast," Clara said, unimpressed, taking off her jacket to eat, glaring at the Doctor.

"It looks like a main meal," he moved his head to get a better angle.

"That's kind of the point," said Emily, drenching her chips in vinegar.

"We're all hungover, Doctor," said Lewis, "this is a hangover breakfast."

"At 2pm, in the afternoon? Is this allowed?" the Doctor asked.

"That's why it's called," Clara paused before saying slowly as if speaking to a child, "an all day breakfast."

"I'm surprised you don't have the hangover breakfasts more often Clara," the Doctor said, holding up a forkful of food to the light. "Judging by the amount of drinking-" Her eyes narrowed at him as she kicked him in the leg.

Emily and Lewis laughed as they inhaled food.

"There was that time on Mars, your work party, last night, that planet with the long necks..." the Doctor trailed off to eat.

"How the hell do you know about my work party?" said Clara, stopping eating, putting her knife and fork down, to turn around slowly and fold her arms, aiming a laseresque narrow glare at the Doctor.

"When I worked at your school-" the Doctor started, cowering slightly.

"Oh do you teach as well?" asked Emily.

"No," snapped Clara, "he worked there for a week as the caretaker. In disguise. He wore a different colour coat."

"I can totally see you as a school caretaker," offered Lewis, between mouthfuls.

"Thank you," said the Doctor, holding out his palm to Lewis.

"You're welcome," said Lewis.

"So when I was working at your school-" the Doctor started again.

"-as the caretaker," Clara hadn't moved an inch, her arms were still folded.

"-I got added to the staff WhatsApp group, so that some of them could-" the Doctor began.

"There's a staff WhatsApp group?" Clara said loudly. "Why is this the first I'm hearing about this? I have worked there for almost three years. There is not a staff WhatsApp group." Clara shook her head.

"Oh dear, Carla," Lewis said to her, smiling.

"Well, there is," the Doctor said, "anyway-"

"So hang on, all the staff at my school have a chat room and I'm not part of it," she said, louder that she intended, she aimed her best burning stare at the Doctor.

"To be fair, if you can't find the wifi, WhatsApp is going to be a bit of a stretch," Emily added, smiling.

Clara turned around quickly to glare at Emily, giving her the death glare now. "Unless you want this," she pointed to her eyes and shouted, "directed your way, you need to shut the fuck up, right now."

Emily raised her eyebrow, smiling, eating a chip with her fingers, clearly enjoying this. Clara snapped back to look at the Doctor.

"Is there anybody else who isn't in this group? And be very careful what you say to me," Clara said, trying to stay calm.

"Mr Foley-"

"He retired last year," Clara replied.

"Mrs Gibbs-"

"She's on maternity leave," Clara said.

"and Miss Forster-"

"She has a Nokia 3210, I'll give you that one," said Clara, "anyone else."

"There's a new cleaner that started a few weeks ago, she's trying to get Gary to add her on the group..."

"Emily, get your spare pair of pants ready, I think we are about to see ten happen," Lewis said under his breath. Emily laughed behind her.

"What?!" Clara stood up and shouted loudly. "Are you fucking serious?" she pointed at the Doctor, leaning over him. She grabbed hold of the Doctor's sleeve and pulled him up roughly.

"Clara, listen-" she kicked his chair away from underneath him.

"Yep," said Emily behind her.

"Are you trying to tell me," she paused, lowering her voice, "that every other teacher and staff member at my school is in a chatroom apart from me?" She still held him up.

"Ummm," he cowered away from her. She released him after a few seconds. She dusted herself down and then walked back to her seat, picking up her jacket, fishing in the pocket, she took out a set of cards, finding three and handing them to the Doctor. He set the chair back upright slowly and sat down.

"Read the cards," said Clara venomously.

The Doctor looked them, and cleared his throat. "I am very sorry I didn't tell you that vitally important piece of information earlier," he changed to the next card, "I completely understand why you are upset," he went to the final card, "I am very sorry for your loss, I will do everything I can to solve the death of your friend slash family member slash pet." He paused. "Why does that one always keep coming up?"

She rolled her eyes and handed him another card. "I completely understand why you want to slap slash punch slash kick slash hurt me. And I'm sorry you feel that way."

Lewis and Emily were doubled over in fits of laughter.

Clara took out a card for herself and read it aloud. "I promise nobody will be deported slash injured slash maimed slash decapitated slash killed... in the next thirty seconds." She looked at the large white clock on the wall, and folded her arms.

"Is this how they communicate?" whispered Lewis to Emily.

A silence hung in the air for a few seconds. Lewis and Emily smiled at each other, trying to contain their laughter. Rich continued to look at his phone completely unfased by what was happening around him. The few people that had turned around returned to their conversations.

The Doctor looked at his hands, smiling around the table, picked up his knife and fork and began cutting up a piece of bacon. He was about to eat when Clara launched for him again.

"OK, are we are still doing this?" said the Doctor, as Clara stood up and grabbed his sleeve and returned to the position she had been in thirty seconds previously.

"Two years!" she whispered loudly, her face a foot from his, gripping his sleeve to hold his hand upwards. She could hear the pulse in her head.

"I'd say more eighteen months, but if you're rounding up-" he started.

"Does this caff do popcorn?" sniggered Lewis behind her.

"Two years!" she repeated louder, her eyes were incensed.

"I-" he began.

"Two years," she maintained the grip on his arm, "and you didn't think to mention this to me?" Her anger again knew no boundaries right now.

"To give myself credit, you never asked-"

"I'm inclined to not ask about things I don't know about-" she shouted, groaned loudly and let go of his arm. She maintained her glare at him for a few more seconds before taking a pace back, crossing her arms.

The Doctor straightened our the crease on his sleeve. "Ok, well now you've calmed down-"

"Calmed down?!" she said loudly, "What about what I am doing right now screams the word calm to you?"

"Clara, listen..." he said, shaking his head.

"Oh, I am listening!" she said, "Listening very intently to the excellent reason you are about to give me."

"I didn't realise you weren't in it..." he said, pausing.

"Ok, so that's understandable," she said, quieter. She went to sit down.

"... at first," he continued. She paused and turned back around to reistate the glare, still standing with her arms crossed, infuriated.

"So when were you invited?" she asked, eyes still impossibly narrow. "And be very careful about your answer," she warned.

"The day... after I started," he said slowly.

"What?" snapped, quieter than she had intended. "The day after you started. Great," she said sarcastically. "And when did you realise I wasn't on there?"

"I mean you can see who's in it at the top, can't you?" he said, aimed at the other three.

"Yeah," Rich said.

"Shut the fuck up, Rich!" Clara shouted. "When?" she fired back at the Doctor.

"About twenty minutes..." he said sighing. "But I was doing something else at the time, so it would have been a lot quicker-" he let out a proud grin.

"Twenty minutes!" she shouted, "oh for god's sake."

"Clara, you just seem to be repeating times and dates," he dismissed her, "you're not going to be able to get any decent information that way!"

"I'm sorry?!" she replied to him, agressively.

"You," he pointed at Emily, peering around Clara, "you with the focus, what would your next question be?" Clara continued looking at the Doctor for a few seconds before spinning around to fix a glare on Emily.

"Is she always like this when she's angry?" Emily said, a wide cheeky grin on her face.

"That's your question?" snapped Clara, sarcastically.

The Doctor mouthed the word 'yes' and nodded behind her, out of Clara's eyeline.

"Try again," said Clara, loudly.

"Erm... Why is Clara not part of this group?" Emily offered.

"Oh, she," the Doctor nodded, "she is good."

Clara narrowed her eyes at Emily, only getting a laugh in return. She returned to look at the Doctor.

"Why am I not part of this group?" said Clara. Blood was coarsing through her veins.

"That is an excellent story," said the Doctor, smiling, "if you are sitting comfortably," he pointed to her chair, "then I'll begin."

Clara didn't move.

"It will be much better if you're sitting, Clara," he sat down, slowly. "Why don't you have some food and then we'll continue? I know what you're like when you are hungry."

"I think we all know what Clara is like when she is hungry," said Lewis.

"Angry?" said the Doctor. "A nightmare?"

"Loud," said Lewis.

"Fucking sexy," breathed Emily.

"Very Loud," said Rich.

"Don't you lot all start," Clara begrudgingly sat down on the seat, ignoring them all.

"Have your... eggs-cellent breakfast," the Doctor smiled to groans around the table.

"Funny," said Rich.

"...and then I can continue my story."

Clara screwed up her face and glared at the Doctor as she had her breakfast. Emily and Lewis had finished, trying to contain their laughter. Emily was nursing her cup of tea. Rich was still glued to his mobile.

"Better?" The Doctor said as Clara finished.

"Better," said Rich.

"Hang on," said the Doctor, turning his eyes towards Rich. "No... no, no! How did that happen?" He pointed to Rich's empty plate. "Did anyone see him eat?" Emily shook her head. "Well there goes my data collection," he sighed.

"So..." said Lewis after a few minutes after they had all finished eating. "I don't want to speak for everyone else, but I think we all want to hear this story Doctor."

Rita came over to collect the plates. "How was that for everyone?"

"Could we have another round of teas, please?" asked Lewis. "Dad is about to tell us a very interesting story... About the war."

"Of course, sweetheart," said Rita, she smiled at the Doctor, walking off.

"The war? Which war?" said the Doctor, "I've got lots of stories about the war," he said confused. "There was this war, a big... big war, between the Time Lords..."

"Not the Time War," said Clara, under her breath, "he's joking."

"Why would you make a joke about a war?" the Doctor said.

Clara shook her head, cradling it in her hands. "I really think we should go," she looked up.

"What are you talking about? We can't go! I need to tell a story-" the Doctor started.

"And we've just ordered more teas," grinned Lewis.

"Exactly," said the Doctor. "We've just ordered more teas. Not like you to leave a cup of tea? Is it?" he smiled at her.

"Of course not," said Clara, sarcastically.

"So why isn't Clara in that group?" Emily asked, smiling, clearly wanting to see her turn angry again.

"Seriously?" she said to Emily, affixing her with a burning look.

"Ahhh yes," said the Doctor. "That is a good story."

"And one I'm sure I would be much more comfortable with you telling to just me in a non public place sometime else," said Clara.

"With your eyes at..." he looked at her, "84... no 85%? Do I look like I have a death wish?"

"Right now, yes you do," said Clara, creasing her eyes.

"Well..." said the Doctor started.

"So we're actually going there..." said Clara under her breath.

"... I got to know a few of the guys at the school really well," the Doctor continued.

"You were there for a week!" Clara said. "I don't even think I've spoken to the actual caretaker more than three or four times in three years.

"Maybe you should try it. A week is a long time at work Clara," the Doctor said, "I got talking to a few of the lads after work and when I left they wanted to keep in touch so we set up a group."

"And what happens this group?"

"Pictures of cats mainly," the Doctor laughed.

"But I love pictures of cats!" Clara exclaimed, uncharacteristically northern.

"I bet you do-" Lewis sniggered.

"Don't you dare," Clara shut him down.

"At first... and then the whole Tena Lady debacle happened..." the Doctor sighed.

"Linda," sneered Clara. "I hate Linda."

"No need to be embarrassed, Carla, it happens to all women of a certain age," laughed Lewis.

"Shut up," she snapped. "That makes sense then, Linda hates me, wanted a way to slap me off."

"And then the memes started..." the Doctor said.

"Memes?" said Clara, confused.

"They're pictures with funny words around them," offered Emily, as an aside.

"Thank you," said Clara sarcastically. "I know what a meme is."

"Since the whole wifi thing I can't gauge your knowledge," she laughed.

"Memes of what?"

"Umm..." the Doctor looked at his hands.

"Memes of umm," she clicked her fingers. "Memes of umm. Doesn't ring any bells," Clara glared at him. "Try again."

"You," said the Doctor, looking down at the table.

Rita arrived with the cups of tea, setting them down around the group. Clara paused her reaction.

"Wow, this must be an interesting story," she said, "you are all engrossed aren't you?" She walked off.

Lewis and Emily looked at each other open mouthed, unsure what was going to happen.

"What?" said Clara.

"Hmm?" said the Doctor, not rising to her question.

"I said," Clara repeated louder. "What?!"

"What? Oh the memes?" the Doctor said, "I thought because you hadn't reacted you were fine with it. Oh they're all of you, they are funny." He laughed.

"Right," said Clara, picking up her coat. "That's it, I'm leaving." She put on her coat and walked around the table.

"Doctor, please do stay here with your new friends and continue your story. Emily, I will see you on Tuesday. Lewis, if I don't see you ever again it will be far far too soon. And Rich," she paused, "thank you ever so much for your full attention, engaging personality and sparkling, entertaining conversation."

"Welcome," said Rich, not looking up.

"Clara, come on," said the Doctor standing, "you've still got tea."

"And when exactly did I agree to that?" said Emily.

"Right now," she stated. "Are you going to argue with me?"

"No I am not," she said, smirking.

"Good," Clara snapped, nodding, moving towards the door.

"Oh Carla," said Lewis.

"Fuck off Louise," said Clara.

"I think you've forgotten something," Lewis beamed.

"What?" Clara said.

"Doctor-" Lewis glinted towards Clara.

"I thought she was the one with all the questions?" he pointed at Emily.

"Actually, there is one question you haven't answered," said Emily, goading her.

"With your track record, this should be excellent," acknowledged the Doctor.

"So what actually happened at the work do?" Emily asked, her eyes twinkling.


	17. Chapter 17

'You know, Clara, you could take some focus lessons from your new friend," he looked at Emily. "Can I call you Bitey?"

"Err, no..." said Emily, confused.

"She's got a new name," the Doctor pointed at Clara, "I thought that we were all doing it?"

"I can think of several four letter words to call you," said Clara, zipping up her jacket.

"Why would he call me... bitey?" said Emily, looking back to Clara, confused.

"You know, after-" the Doctor started.

"Doctor!" Clara interrupted. "Shut up."

"So what happened at her work drinks?" asked Lewis.

"Ahhh... That is also a good story," he said loudly.

"You can tell me later," said Clara, going to leave.

"Do you I look like the sort of person that would repeat a story?" said the Doctor. "Like that guy, what's his name?"

"What guy?" said Clara.

"You know the one that repeats everything...?" The Doctor said to the group.

There were blank looks around the table.

"You know, the one that likes buying all those storage units, driving down ice roads and Top Gear? That guy?"

"Dave," said Rich.

"Yes!" said the Doctor, "Dave!" He pointed at Rich, "he's gone up in my estimations. Yes, do I look like Dave?"

"You can't look like a TV channel," said Clara. "Besides I thought that you preferred John Smith as your completely believeable fake name."

"I'm thinking of branching out," said the Doctor.

"I can completely see you as a Dave," said Lewis.

"Thank you." He nodded to Lewis. "I don't repeat stories because I always make new ones," he said arrogantly. "You know I'm right."

Clara had to admit he was right, her interest was suitably piqued. She really wanted to stomp out but stopped, sighing before pacing back to her seat.

"When you have finished, I am storming out, just so you know," Clara stated as she sat down.

"Don't give up on that dream of being a drama teacher, eh?" the Doctor joked. "Besides, where are you going to go?"

"Story. Now," she said. "Short version."

"Ok well, when I was printing out the weekly summary for Miss Forster-" the Doctor said.

"I thought she wasn't part of the group?" Clara interrupted.

"She's not," said the Doctor.

"So why is she getting a weekly summary sheet?" said Clara.

"She's got a Nokia 3210, doesn't connect to WhatsApp, how is she supposed to catch up otherwise?" the Doctor asked seriously.

"Seriously?" said Clara, sighing, narrowing her eyes.

"So she invited me to your work do-" the Doctor started.

"What? You were there for a week!"

"I made quite the impression," he smiled. "So a few of us went for drinks beforehand-"

"Oh no," sighed Lewis.

"And then we went to the party. I had to stayed for a few hours and caught up with the... ahem..." he paused, "pictures the next day."

"No..." said Clara, gasping. "No." She shook her head, resigned.

"Pictures?" said Lewis, grinning. "Pictures of what?"

Clara glared at him. "Please don't-"

"A few quite compromising situations," he paused. Was he blushing? "If I say so myself."

"Whoops," laughed Lewis.

"I am going to kill her!" shouted Clara.

"Kill who?" said Emily.

"Miss Bright," Clara hissed. "I am going to fucking kill her!"

"Miss... Bright?" said Lewis, smiling.

"Yes," Clara snapped.

"Experienced," added Rich.

"So that's the story of how I know what happened at the party." The Doctor smiled... "So now I can tell you some more impressive things that I've done."

"Were they dirty pictures?" said Lewis, grinning.

"I haven't see them," said Clara, sighing, massaging her temples.

"Can I see?" smiled Emily, to the Doctor. "Please?"

The Doctor shook his head, "I deleted them."

"Any printed copies?" Emily fished.

"I deleted them everywhere," the Doctor held out his hands. "Impressive, aren't I?"

"You can do that?" said Lewis.

"Oh yeah," the Doctor smiled. "Everywhere on the internet. I even surprise myself with how impressive I am sometimes." He laughed.

"Thank god," said Clara. "For that I am very grateful." He was trying to protect her, she had to give him that.

"Shame," said Lewis. "I'm sure we would have all liked to have given judgement-"

"Found it," said Rich.

"What?" said Clara, quietly.

"Show me," said Lewis, laughing, taking Rich's phone off him. "Oh Carla." He turned the phone sideways. "This, this is... priceless."

Emily launched across the table to grab the phone, easily snatching it from Lewis's hands. "Oh... my... god." She faced it away from Clara. "Fucking hell..." she laughed, looking at her.

"Give that here," said Clara, as Emily held it away from her, tapping the screen. "Now!" she took hold of the phone, ripping it from Emily's hand. It was a picture of her cuddling a tequila bottle and a shoe whilst topless. "Fuck..." she closed her eyes, having seen enough.

Rich took his phone back and continued texting.

"I am going to fucking kill Miss Bright," Clara spat out. She was furious.

"Carla, you are full of surprises!" Lewis said, smirking, "I am very impressed."

"Clara... I... don't know what went wrong," said the Doctor. "How did he, the barely sentient one, find that?"

Clara launched for him again, quickly standing up. "Sort this the fuck out! Right now!" Clara shouted, angrily.

"Yes..." he said, shrugging away from her. "Can I borrow your phone again?" He paced around, snatching it out of his hands, grimicing at the picture. He took the sunglasses out of his pocket, put them on and aimed them at the phone. They whirred and then he nodded to himself. "You may need to reload the builders website." He threw the phone back to Rich.

Clara put her head in her hands on the table. She needed to get out of here and go home.

"What did you just do?" said Lewis.

"If I told you, your brain might explode," the Doctor mimicked something exploding. "Something very clever."

"Is there anything else?" shouted Clara.

"No, that's it," said the Doctor.

"Are you lying?" she said loudly.

"No," the Doctor said. She knew him well enough to know he was lying. "Can I have a card please?" he said to her.

Clara screwed up her face, going into her pocket to retrieve the cards. She shuffled through until handing him one.

The Doctor looked down at the card and then back at her. "I'm sorry I offended you with my words slash actions slash body language slash patronising voice."

"Thank you," she said sarcastically, finishing her tea.

"Well," said Lewis, "I think we are done here," he exhaled, grinning.

"Yeah," said Rich.

Clara sat trying to control her temper, her pulse echoing in her head.

"See Clara" the Doctor said, "I can do breakfast."

"So can she," said Lewis, smirking. "Ask her how her actual breakfast was."

"How was your actual breakfast?" the Doctor asked.

"Don't," she shook her head, "please don't."

Clara got up quickly and decided to walk out, leaving the others to go outside. What more could the Doctor possibly throw at her?

She angrily stomped down the street, still fuming before realising she needed to get her stuff from inside the flat. She resignedly slowed down hearing the others talk behind her.

"... once had an argument with Ghandi," the Doctor said.

There was laughter behind as they caught up.

"Your friend the Doctor is hilarious," Emily said to her, walking up alongside. Lewis and the Doctor were talking, Rich was still on his phone.

"For you lot maybe," she sighed. "I have to deal with this all the time. I think I'm going to get my stuff and head home," she said, "I've had a long few days..." she trailed off.

"Ok," said Emily, smiling at her. "Just so you know, I've enjoyed myself."

"Even after me stealing your phone yesterday, getting you to lie to some of my kids, getting very, very drunk and then whatever the hell that was..." she sighed.

"And spending most of the last 24 hours with your ton-"

"Shh!" said Clara, suddenly embarrassed as the Doctor was a few paces behind. She couldn't help but raise the smallest smile at Emily. "Not around him," she pointed behind.

They reached the outside door and all piled in, the Doctor followed Lewis through.

"It's ok Doctor, give me a minute, I just need to get my things and then I'll meet you outside. Wait for me in the TAR- car," Clara said. "I am still very angry."

"Be as quick as you can," said the Doctor. "I'm not the sort of man you keep waiting."

"You are insufferable!" Clara breathed.

"I'm stopping for a smoke, meet you inside," said Lewis, ushering the Doctor away. "I still can't believe you couldn't find the wifi," he sniggered.

"That's the least of my worries at the moment," said Clara, as Emily unlocked the front door ahead of her. She went straight through to Emily's room, scanning around for her things. She noticed on the clock it was 3.45pm, she was anxious to go.

"You really don't have to leave, you know," Emily said as she closed the bedroom door behind her.

"I really do, I am very upset and angry," she said. "And embarrased. And tired. And I have work early in the morning."

"It's like 4pm," she laughed. "Sure you haven't got time for something...?" Emily teased.

"I need to go," said Clara, as Emily put her hands around Clara's waist through her jacket.

"Do I not at least get a decent goodbye?" she said behind her.

Clara stopped, exhaling loudly, and turned around to face Emily. Emily smiled widely at her, putting her hands up to the zip on Clara's jacket, undoing it slowly.

"What are you doing?" said Clara, knowing fully well she did not need this answering.

"I can't work with the coat," said Emily, looking up at her, finishing lowering the zip. Emily put her hands around Clara's shoulders and pushed off the jacket. She put her hands around Clara's waist and then gasped before pulling away. "What the fuck?"

"What?" said Clara.

Emily stepped back and looked at her, panicked. "No... how is that possible? You're thinner... a lot thinner, than you were a couple of hours ago."

"Oh," said Clara, she'd forgotten with all of the other stuff going on. "So yeah, that..."

"What has happened?" Emily paced backwards, unsure. "I don't like it. At all."

"This is a very long story," Clara looked down at herself.

"I can't get my head around this, I didn't notice until just now..." Emily moved towards her, head sideways. "Take off the shirt," she said.

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Clara.

"Take it off," Emily said. "I want to check if I'm wrong. How... what?"

Clara did as she said, undoing the buttons. She took off Emily's shirt and folded it up on the bed behind her.

"Fuck!" said Emily. "Why have you lost weight, why have you got bruises on your wrists... why have you got deep cuts on your arms? I definitely did not do that to you," she said, before pausing, "did i?"

"No!" she looked directly at Emily, "you didn't do anything to me, I absolutely promise."

"So how the fuck has this happened? For god's sake don't let Lewis see you, he'll think I attacked you. Please put my shirt back on," said Emily, "I can't look at you like that!"

"Listen, Emily, I can explain..." said Clara, putting the shirt back on.

"You need to be honest with me. Something is going on and you need to tell me. Right now." Emily creased up her face. "Have you done that to yourself?"

"Oh god, no I haven't! Umm... this is very difficult to explain," Clara sat down on the bed. Emily stood up, folding her arms, looking down at her.

"You need to start," said Emily, pointing towards the door. "Or you need to leave."

"Emily..." Clara started, standing up, "please don't..."

"Start talking, or leave, seems like an easy choice to make." Emily turned to face away from her.

"Ok..." Clara took a deep breath, she was going to have to tell her. There actually was no explaining this away. "I met you yesterday afternoon at what, 2pm, didn't I?"

"Yes..." said Emily, not moving.

"So 24 hours, ago?" said Clara. "Thing is... for me, it's been longer... A lot longer."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" said Emily.

"Well, for me, it's been..." Clara counted up in her head, "nearer seventeen days."

"Seventeen days?! What the fuck are you on?" Emily said loudly. "It's been a day."

"For you, yes. For me, seventeen days," said Clara.

"Fuck off," said Emily, shaking her head. "You're a school teacher from Clapham! Not some time warping weirdo."

"Can't I be both?" said Clara.

"Are you telling me you've known me for almost three weeks?" said Emily loudly.

"Yeah," said Clara.

"For fuck's sake, why do I always meet the crazy people?" said Emily, leaning against the wall.

"I'm not crazy," said Clara, getting up off the bed and walking towards her. "I am not lying to you."

"So have we met in this future?" said Emily, distinctly unimpressed, staying still.

"Yes," nodded Clara.

"When?"

"On Tuesday, you come and meet me after work at school, you take me to see your exhibition. Which is really good, by the way," Clara said.

Emily looked at her. "You've not left me for the last 24 hours, how could you have been to see it? It's not even open today."

"I can prove it if you want?" said Clara, crossing her arms.

"How?" snapped Emily.

"I know that the one of a hand on some corrugated steel-" Clara started.

"Fuck off! You saw that on my Facebook in the pictures, anyone could see that," Emily snapped.

"-it's Lewis's hand."

Emily stopped to look at her. "What?!" she said, incredulous. "How the fuck do you know that?"

"And your favourite is the stick on the cardboard boxes because, the light was right that day or something."

"No... How... what?" said Emily, sitting down on the bed. "No, this is not happening."

"It's OK, I understand," Clara said, "it's a lot to process."

"So how did you get the cuts and bruises?" asked Emily, looking away.

"When we left for breakfast earlier, I went to meet the Doctor outside, in his time machine-"

"Time machine, are you shitting me?" said Emily. "This is just getting worse."

"And we went to a space cruise ship for four days, and then we came back just after we'd left. I was captured and tied up for three days-" Clara started.

"No... this is not true," Emily was trying to process. "You're just mental."

"Yes it is and no I'm not. That's how I got the cuts and bruises and lost weight. The Doctor told me it was barely noticeable, but apparently... it is." She looked at herself in the mirror.

"This is really fucked up, I can't even."

"To be fair, I didn't know this was going to happen, as far as I'm concerned in relation to you right now I'm in bed at home passed out after a night of heavy drinking."

"What?" said Emily, she laughed to herself, incredulous.

Clara looked at the clock. It was 16.15. "I'm going to wake up in about an hour at home, confused how I got there, not knowing what happened last night."

"But you know what happened?" said Emily, confused.

"I was in the club," said Clara.

"Of course you were, you spent most of the night with your fucking tongue down my fucking throat," said Emily, flippantly.

"I was there, twice. You told me to," she impersonated Emily, "fuck off" she returned to her normal voice, "after I walked into you. This bitch," she pointed to herself, "stole Lewis's shots."

"No..." said Emily creasing her eyebrows. "That was you! I thought she was some crazy bitch who looked a lot like you. So what happened after that?"

"The Doctor and I took Drunk Me home, and then something weird happened. Someone wanted to get me an ambulance or something. Since then it's been me."

"This is some fucking fucked up shit," she shook her head. "I don't believe you, there cannot be two of you."

"Why don't you text me? If I reply to you then you know I'm not lying," Clara said to her.

Emily stayed still. "I don't know why I'm doing this," she said, taking her phone out of her pocket. "Hang on," she paused, "if this has already happened you know what I'm going to send you, don't you?"

"I can't remember the exact specifics. Type it, send it and then I'll tell you," said Clara, calling her bluff. She sat on the edge of the bed.

"Ok," said Emily, rising to her challenge, her face moving to a more curious expression now. She typed out a message and then sent it. "So tell me what it says," Emily dared her, narrowing her eyes.

"The last thing you're probably thinking right now. Something about last night being really good, how I'm, "she laughed lightly, "amazing. So were you..."

"Anything else?" Emily asked.

"Probably some sort of winky face, asking me if I got back ok and that you're looking forward to seeing me on Tuesday."

"How are you doing that?" Emily said. "So hang on, all those stories you told me?"

"100% truth."

"No!" said Emily, smiling slightly. "You're joking. I still don't believe you."

"I guess we'll see when I text back, telling you I'm at home, that I had a good night and asking you what we're doing on Tuesday."

"So, according to you, had we already slept together last night?" said Emily.

Clara blushed. "I'm not sure you want to know the answer to that... Past me doesn't know about anything that happened since leaving the club, our, ahem, amazing sex this morning or that car crash of a breakfast. I'd prefer to keep it that way, thanks." She smiled. "Can only speak personally, but..." she paused, laughing.

"But what?" said Emily. She sat down on the bed.

"Tuesday is a good day..." she smirked. "God I wish I could do that again," she breathed.

"This is crazy. Mental. Fucked up!" She paused, before asking, "how much sex have we had?"

Clara smirked at her, not answering, raising her eyebrow.

"No!" said Emily, shaking her head. "Fuck off... Really?"

"Yeah..." said Clara, looking at her, smiling.

"Are you hurt when I next see you?" said Emily.

Clara shook her head. "I'm back to normal, this," she pointed to her body, "hasn't happened yet."

"This is completely insane," Emily said, she moved her hand next to Clara's on the bed. "I'm not sure I believe you."

Clara looked down at their hands touching, smiling to herself. She turned and reached out to Emily's leg. "I didn't realise any of this had happened until about twelve hours ago... downside of being a time traveller."

Emily looked at her oddly, and then began laughing. Clara felt a sudden urge to reach out to Emily after her look softened, her mouth grinning. "Hot... and can allegedly travel in time. This is a new one on me..."

"God, I really want to kiss you," Clara swallowed, putting a hand up to Emily's cheek.

Emily went to kiss Clara quickly, taking her a little by surprise. She kissed back deeply, that familiar feeling wash over her as she immediately wanted to start removing clothing. Emily pushed Clara down onto the bed, putting her weight on top.

Emily's phone went off in the background, causing her to stop what she was doing. She pulled herself off Clara slightly and reached away, a curious look on her face.

"What the fuck, how are you texting me? Right now?!"

"Do you believe me now?" Clara propped herself up on an elbow on the bed.

"I'm starting to... How is this even possible!" she exclaimed, "how can there be two of you?"

"I think you should reply to me, otherwise I'll lose interest," Clara laughed.

She composed a message. "I'm telling you to not make any plans for Wednesday morning," Emily said.

"I'm working on Wednesday morning," said Clara, grinning.

Emily looked at her phone as the message that came back word for word a few seconds later. "This is mental! How are you doing this?!"

"I told you already. I was very confused at this point, didn't remember a thing."

Emily looked at her phone smiling. "I liked what you did at breakfast earlier, getting me to meet you, are you that demanding all the time?"

"I can be..." Clara laughed.

"What is this weird voodoo shit, you are doing?" Emily spoke as she typed, "Is this what happens when you're 30? Delayed memory loss hangover?"

"Hey! Do you mind?" Clara pushed her playfully.

"Stop distracting me, I am trying to talk to you... this is so weird... were you drunk? Let me think, yes, you were off your tits!" she then typed out loud, "not really, you were surprisingly coherent after we left the club."

"Thanks," said Clara.

Emily laughed to herself. "Was I at least any good? Because that's important! I usually pass out when I'm drunk. Yes... yes you do."

"So was I any good?" said Clara.

"I'm not sure what to reply... " Emily said.

"Best sex I've ever had?" Clara mused.

"Bit big headed. Err no."

"No to the statement or the reply?" Clara took the phone away from her to type a suitable answer.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Emily said with a raised eyebrow.

Clara thought through a couple of answers before beginning to type, Emily snatched the phone back.

"No..." she smirked, laughing, "you were fucking rubbish." She raised an eyebrow at Clara.

"Thanks," Clara replied, deadpan, "and so were you."

Emily looked at her phone, "oh, it's ok, you're apologising for being rubbish. How funny!" she remarked.

"Be nice to her," said Clara.

"Why are you asking about your shirt?"

"I never found it after that night, not sure I want to know." She looked at the shirt on the floor. "Tell me I left wearing it," Clara said.

"Ok..." said Emily.

"Can I keep this shirt?" Clara asked. "It fits me now!"

"Will I get it back?"

"On," she counted up in her head, "a week on Monday."

"Ok then," said Emily looking at her strangely. "Let me tell her I'm tired."

"Why?" said Clara.

"Because why would I text you when you're here?" her eyes twinkled.

"Because... you actually want me to meet you," Clara laughed.

"It's alright, I've let her down gently," Emily laughed.

"Thanks," Clara said, smiling. "So... I should probably go."

Emily put her hand on Clara's chest, "yeah, you probably should." She moved her hand down Clara's stomach, recoiling slightly. "I hope you are back to normal the next time you see me. I don't like this. It's weirding me out."

Clara sat up on the bed. "Sorry... give me a few days."

"Sure?" said Emily, moving to sit next to her.

"Yes," said Clara, sighing. "And you can't tell me about all this, until at least the... umm... 29th. OK?"

"If you say so," she put her hand on Clara's leg. "I'm not sure I can deal with waiting until Tuesday..." she sighed, pulling up close. "Just fucking kiss me," she demanded.

Clara shook her head, "if we kiss we're going to-"

Emily pounced on Clara, pressing her firmly down into the bed, kissing her gently at first but quickly escalating into them both becoming half dressed and continuing where they'd left off earlier.

...

Clara emerged out of the bedroom an hour later, smirking to herself as she went out into the kitchen. Emily padded after her, her hair messy, smiling widely, she got herself a glass of water, trying to stop herself laughing.

"That's the longest earth minute I've ever experienced," said the Doctor, sat on the armchair facing the TV. He was watching Pointless with Rich and Lewis. "What time system are you working on these days? Darillium?"

"Yeah sorry about that," sighed Clara. She wasn't sorry.

"Have you calmed down?" said the Doctor.

"A little," she smirked to herself.

"There was some mild gossiping going on in there, wasn't there?" the Doctor said.

"What is wrong with you two?" said Lewis.

"Nothing," said Emily, still smiling, blushing. "We were just saying goodbye."

"Loudly," said Rich, still not looking up from his phone.

Clara walked towards the lounge area. "Rich, will you shut up, you've been chatting away all day."

Lewis sniffed loudly as she walked over. "Carla, what's that curious perfume you're wearing? Very... pungent."

"I've told her about this before," said the Doctor. He sniffed her. "Wow, you are giving off some chemicals. He's right, you know, there is a weird smell."

"Fish," said Rich. Clara, Emily and Lewis all looked at him, with various degrees of shock and laughter.

"No it's not fish..." said the Doctor.

"Oh I think it is," said Lewis. "It smells very... fishy in here."

"Fuck off Lewis," said Emily.

"Nope," the Doctor said. "You're wrong. It's oestrogen. Lots of it too. Wow. It is very odiferous."

"Doctor, shall we go?" said Clara, blushing.

"I'm also getting top notes of dopamine and serotonin... You pudding brains, I never can get over how many chemicals you release, old Bitey over there is giving off a lot of adrenaline," he smiled. "I don't like it."

"Nobody likes that smell," said Lewis, grimacing.

"I'm not old, do you mind?" said Emily.

"How old are you?" asked the Doctor, trying to size her up.

"How old are you?" replied Emily back to him quickly.

"What unit of measurement do you want?" said the Doctor. "Seconds? Minutes? Mars years-" Emily looked very confused.

"We should get going, Doctor," she interrupted and turned around to look at Emily, "I'll see you on Tuesday," she went in for a kiss, laughing.

"What are they doing?" said the Doctor, to Lewis, behind her. "Why are they doing that?"

"They're still saying goodbye," said Lewis. "Girls, you know the rules, no lesbianism in the communal areas."

"Come on Clara, you can't say goodbye all night," the Doctor was walking towards them, looking with a tilted head and a grimace.

"Try me," Clara said, in between kisses.

"Either go back into the bedroom or piss off," Lewis said. "It's offending my eyes."

"Ok, ok," said Clara, pulling away, "I am really leaving now. Talk to you tomorrow?"

Emily nodded, smiling, holding onto her hand.

The Doctor was giving her a confused look.

"Haven't you seen two women kissing before?" laughed Emily.

"Not this close," he watched both of them. "I'm not sure I like it."

"Neither do I," said Lewis.

"Same," said Rich.

"Fuck off, all of you," said Emily. The Doctor was still looking at her.

Clara walked towards the front door before stopping. "Come on Doctor. We're leaving. You need to take me home. Or I'll turn my eyes on," she threatened, picking up her bag.

"Yes, yes of course." He moved towards the door, keeping his eyes on Emily for longer than necessary.

"Go!" Clara said, pushing him out before her. "Bye everyone." She shut the door behind her, leading the Doctor down the stairs.

"Box number 14," said the Doctor. "Of course!"

"What?" said Clara.

"The money..." the Doctor said, "it was in Box 14."

"Oh..." said Clara, realising. "I see."

They walked out into the street, it was dark now, the TARDIS was illuminated by a streetlight.

"Can you drop me home?" said Clara.

"Yes I can," said the Doctor, unusually disinterested.

"Good," she folded her arms, crossing the street. "I'm still angry about the photos, just so you know."

The Doctor unlocked the TARDIS and went straight to the console, moving the big switch once Clara was inside.

"What's the matter?" Clara said.

"Nothing," said the Doctor, uncharacteristically monosyllabic.

"Something's wrong," she said, "tell me."

"Nothing is wrong, Clara, I'm taking you home."

"Ok," she said, pacing around him. "Are you upset?"

He turned away from her, avoiding her gaze.

"Why are you upset?" she said.

"It's nothing," he said. "You're back, just after we left before we went to spy on your drunken antics."

"So there is something," she paused. "What is it?"

He ignored her, inspecting some of the controls on the console.

"Hang on, wait a minute..." she said. "Don't tell me, that- that you're... no! Come on."

"Whatever you think I am Clara, I am not. I'm fine, go home, I'll be back for you soon." He paced off to the balcony level.

"Are you... jealous?' she asked, moving up two steps.

"I told you, you can see who you want," he picked up a book and read as he walked.

"And I get that, but you're obviously not happy with it," she said, arms crossed, following behind him.

"You've known this person for about a day-" the Doctor said.

"17 days," corrected Clara.

"And you're off... procreating-"

"Not... we're not procreating," sighed Clara. "Two women can't procreate."

"What are you doing then?" the Doctor said.

"I don't know yet," she said, "hasn't been discussed."

"So?" the Doctor paced off.

"Right now it's a bit... well... a lot of fun," she blushed.

"With someone you've just met? Is that safe?"

"What are you talking about? I'm perfectly safe. There was a very long decision making process before anything happened..." she lied. The Doctor was actually making quite a good point.

"Getting drunk with strangers? In a place like that club we went last night? Passing out against a wall?"

"Is that what you're angry about?" she said, beginning to understand.

"That and the casual intimate relations you've recklessly thrown yourself into," he said curtly.

He was making a good point. "Ok, I know I know, it just happened, we have a lot in common and-"

"Don't tell me the details," he snapped. "Does she have a Time Lord too?" he said sarcastically.

"No, that's just me," Clara laughed. "You know I've only got room for one time travelling man with two hearts in my life." She paused, starting to say something else but then stopped.

"Good," the Doctor said.

"This is different, might be something, might be nothing,"

"Is it wrong for me to worry about you?"

"No, of course not," she said, reaching out to touch him on the arm. "I can look after myself on earth, you know, when there's not the chance of the world ending or something big like that."

"Ok," he said.

"I appreciate the concern, I really do," she aimed her best look at the Doctor. "I know you're only trying to protect me."

"Have you told her about this?" the Doctor pointed around.

"Of course not," she lied. "That is not a first date conversation."

"Didn't want to scare her off," the Doctor replied, "very wise." He paused. "I'm sure you'll manage that perfectly well on your own," he said, clearly making fun of her, a wry smile appeared on his face.

"Thanks," she decided to entertain him.

"Anyway, I need to clean your residue off the inside of the TARDIS, she is not happy with you," the Doctor said.

"No matter how many times you say that it does not stop being weird... What happened after it absorbed me, by the way? I ended up replacing Drunk Me, what happened to you?"

"The TARDIS ended up at your flat, I waited until you came home, and you got very angry about me reading a Heat magazine," he said. "And then we went to Babylon. And then me and Bitey-"

"Emily," Clara corrected.

"-sat and watched Better Call Saul."

"I was angry at you dropping me off at school at 6am," said Clara.

"You have a habit of shouting random times at me loudly," said the Doctor, "I switched off. Didn't seem very important."

Clara sighed, she walked towards the door. "When are you dropping me off? I've got work on Monday morning, I am not repeating the whole OFSTED day again."

"And put on some weight," the Doctor added. "Sunday morning," he said.

"Well, at least the kids won't think I'm pregnant this week," Clara mused. "I should really get myself a Chinese..." she reached the door. "You can join me if you want?"

"Why would I do that? And besides, your Chinese is... what's that word... oh yes..." he paused, "questionable. The symbols on the sign say Do You Think Anyone Will Notice It Contains Cat and Dog. I tasted their food, and I noticed."

"I was trying to be nice," Clara said. "Hang on, what?"

"And you've just had breakfast," the Doctor pointed out.

"I've suddenly gone off the Chinese," said Clara, opening the door.

"I'll be back in a few days, I need to clean you off downstairs."

"Please don't ever say that again," said Clara. "Thanks for dropping me home. You're still my favourite Time Lord," she said sweetly to him as she left.

"I'll need to watch out for the Time Ladies as well now," said the Doctor under his breath.

"Sorry?" said Clara, popping her head back in.

"Nothing," he said, smiling to himself.

Clara stood in the living room as the TARDIS dematerialised to a loud whoosh and air curtain around her. She went in search of wine in the kitchen. It had been a difficult few days, she need to relax. She went into the bedroom, taking large gulps of wine and checked her phone to see if she had any messages from Emily. There were three messages from her on the main screen. The time on the lock screen read 6.00am. On Monday morning.

"Fuck!" she shouted loudly at the empty space the Doctor had left.


	18. Chapter 18

Clara was out of the door an hour later, managing to get a suitable outfit together quickly. She wore her hair up to save time, smart dark jeans and a burgundy floaty blouse. She pulled on her leather jacket as she rushed to get to her bike. She was going to kill the Doctor when she saw him next, she wondered if he'd done it on purpose.

Thankfully the traffic was on her side, she was in the staff room by 8.15am. In her rush to get ready she'd forgotten the events of the breakfast, and it suddenly dawned on her when she was looking around the room. She started noticing awkward glances towards her.

"Morning Miss Osw-" Linda started as she breezed past. "What has happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" said Clara.

"I see you've finally decided to go on that diet," said Linda, looking at her enviously. "What is it? Cambridge? Weight Watchers? The cayenne pepper thing?"

"Oh, nothing," Clara said as she zipped up her coat slightly. Linda handed her the morning briefing sheet.

"Or boyfriend troubles is it? Trouble in paradise?" she laughed, walking off. "Knew it wouldn't last."

"Piss off, Linda," Clara said under her breath, making herself a strong coffee. She was a little tired, not quite as bad as she had been last week.

Bill didn't appear before the first bell today, so everyone piled out. She used the opportunity to glare at some of the other teachers she didn't like before she spotted Ella leaving, immediately feeling a large amount of anger bubble up inside her. She decided she was going to confront Miss Bright later, there was no way she was going to last the day without giving her a piece of her mind.

She had Year 9s for the first period, delivering her polished lesson on Jane Austen. It went without any incident, the kids didn't even make any snide comments to her. She had the second period free as a planning session. She worked through her admin, sipping at another coffee, steadily getting more and more angry until the morning break bell rang. Clara stood up, pulling on her jacket, and went off towards the Maths department. Nobody stopped her today, probably reading the furious expression that was beginning to creep onto her face.

She saw Ella in her classroom, writing notes at the desk. Clara walked in quietly and closed the door behind her.

"Oh, Miss Bright," Clara said slowly, "there you are."

Ella jumped out of her seat at the unexpected noise. "Oh, god, Clara," she laughed, holding a hand up to her chest, "you scared me!"

"Did I?" said Clara, immediately feeling a large spike of anger rise inside her.

"And what can I do for you?" Ella said, standing and moving towards the middle of the room, smiling. "Considered taking me up on one of my offers of dinner?"

"I was wondering if you can answer a question for me?" Clara said, leaning back against the door.

"Ok..." said Ella, slightly confused.

"It's quite a complicated issue," Clara said, folding her arms, glaring over at her.

Ella glanced around the room, noticing the door was closed. "What?" Ella was beginning to look uncomfortable.

"I was wondering," Clara said, not taking her eyes off Ella, stepping towards her, "how a topless picture of me ended up on the staff WhatsApp group?" She took another step forward, narrowing her eyes, tilting her head.

"I- I-" Ella stuttered. "I have no idea what you are talking about." She backed away from Clara towards the back of the classroom.

"I'll give you some time to think about your answer," Clara sneered, taking another step towards Ella.

"I don't know-" said Ella.

"Oh, I think you do," said Clara, louder than before.

"Listen, look, I can explain..." said Ella, as her back hit the wall behind her.

"Oh good, I am expecting a very detailed explanation. I am sure it will be very comprehensive," said Clara, increasing her volume to a shout. "And once you've finished then you can tell me how someone I know found them on the Internet for anyone to see." She stepped within three paces of Ella.

"Clara, I-" Ella started, quietly.

"Why did you take pictures of me?" Clara shouted, grabbing the nearest chair to carry it towards Ella. If she was going to threaten her, she needed a prop.

"Why have you picked up that chair?" Ella asked.

"Oh, this thing?" she looked down at the chair, "if I don't get a suitable answer, then the leg of this chair is going to find itself impaled in your ribcage." Clara wasn't planning to actually do anything but was secretly enjoying herself. "Your choice."

"Clara, please calm down," said Ella, holding her hands out in front of her.

"I don't hear any sort of explanation coming from you," she aimed the chair in Ella's direction. "I will do it."

"I wanted to take a picture to remind myself," Ella said, wincing.

"Of what?"

"You being in my bed," said Ella.

"Why?" Clara demanded.

"Why'd you think? A night of," the slightest smile passed over her lips, "lesbian sex with the hottest straight female teacher in the school."

"That does not give you the right to take pictures of me like that," Clara said loudly, she lowered the chair minusculey.

"I know," she paused, "I'm sorry."

"The pictures, if you had kept them for yourself, I could kind of just about perhaps understand that." She positioned the leg of the chair an inch or so from her chest. "But how did they end up in the group? I bet this answer is fascinating."

"I posted them on there," Ella said, looking at the end of the chair leg, and then back to Clara.

"Ok, now we are getting somewhere, wasn't that difficult was it?" Clara said.

"I made an error of judgement," Ella admitted, quietly.

"I'd say you did," Clara shouted. "Why did you do it?"

"I don't know," said Ella.

"Incorrect. Try again," she pressed the leg of the chair gently onto her shirt.

"OK, ok, it was only supposed to be a joke-"

"A joke?!" said Clara, her eyes narrowed. "I'll give you one more try before you have a hilarious unfortunate accident."

"They didn't believe me." Ella sighed, "they didn't believe I'd slept with you, they wanted proof."

"How could you be so stupid?!" Clara shouted at her loudly.

"I'm sorry," said Ella.

Clara threw the chair to the ground, it skittered along the back of the classroom. "You'd better be sorry."

"Clara, look..." Ella whispered.

"Save it," Clara snapped. She walked up to Ella and pushed her firmly against the wall. Clara thought what words would be most harmful to her. "Shame really, I would have been up for something if I'd realised we'd slept together," she lied. Clara was angry enough to destroy her.

"What?" said Ella, "really?"

The bell rang from outside.

"Yeah," Clara sighed. She put her lips towards Ella's ear, breathing heavily. "But now that's never... ever... going to happen."

Voices were travelling down the corridor.

Clara pulled away from Ella, throwing her away back towards the wall. "If I ever see that picture again you don't want to know what I'll do," she said loudly, before turning around and walking towards the door as her next class came in. "Thank you for your help, Miss Bright." she said as she left. She aimed a deadly glare at Ella as she strolled slowly past the front window before disappearing towards her own classroom.

She got back to her classroom to find the Year 7s waiting patiently.

"Good morning everybody," said Clara, smiling to herself, shrugging off her jacket. She wondered how long what had just happened would take to get around the school. "Who is ready for some Shakespeare?"

...

It took until lunchtime before some of the other teachers began giving her sideways looks and a wide berth. She sat in the staff room, replying to Emily's three messages from over the weekend.

: shit night at work, please tell me you are doing something interesting

: Everything ok?

: Are we still on for meeting on Monday?

In the rush to get ready she had forgotten about tonight. Clara replied.

: Hello, yes I'm here, sorry, the Doctor dropped me off late this morning. Left my phone at home.

The reply came a few minutes later as Clara was nonchalantly leading through a copy of Hello.

: Thank god. I thought you were angry with me about how I left your neck on Saturday.

Oh yeah, she remembered. Where had she put that cream? Clara dug through her bag and reassuringly found it inside, smiling to herself.

: Is that an apology?

: No. No it's not.

: Good job I have decent concealer then, isn't it?

: Your place or mine tonight?

Clara thought to herself, thinking. This would be the first time Emily had seen her since that Saturday, unless something spectacular happened at school today, she'd notice as she was still thin, only being a few hours since she'd left Emily's flat with the Doctor for her.

: Yours. Closer.

: I'll meet you after work? Usual place?

: Yes. Can't wait.

: Can I have a go on your bike?

: No you can't. Don't even think about touching it.

Clara smiled to herself, she'd completely forgotten about their plans for tonight. Maybe she could channel some of the energy from this morning. She needed food though, getting up to head to the canteen and get some chips.

...

"Good evening everyone," Clara said, looking up at the clock, smiling, as the end of day bell rang. "Please leave... quietly!"

The rest of the department had not bothered her for the afternoon, she smiled to herself, knowing word had definitely got around. As she locked up her classroom she met Adrian in the corridor.

"Hi Adrian," she said, "how's your day been?"

"Ahh Clara," said Adrian, smirking. "You know, the usual... I hear you've had quite the interesting day." He blatantly knew.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Clara said, smiling to herself, taking the keys out of the lock and putting them in her bag.

"You know," he said, quietly, "I've never liked her, she totally deserved it."

"Still have no idea what you are talking about," she said, walking off down the corridor. "What's the gossip?"

"Ok, well, there's a rumour going round you threatened to impale Miss Bright on a chair leg?" he said, "doesn't sound like you, at all."

"How... interesting. Isn't that the blonde woman? From Maths?" Clara teased.

"Yes," Adrian nodded.

"Why would she say that? I can't even say that I've spoken to her more than the odd hello or an acknowledgement in the corridor," Clara lied, badly.

"Why would she be saying that about you then?" he raised his eyebrow. "Half the staff room are terrified of you now," he laughed.

"They should be," she said under her breath. "Serves her right."

"I take it you found out about the pictures?" he said quietly.

"No, I just threatened to impale her on a chair leg for no reason... Of course I found out about the fucking pictures," she said, feeling herself getting angry again.

"Whoa, OK. I can imagine you're very upset," Adrian was backing away from her.

Clara took a deep breath. "Really? Can you?"

"All I'm saying is that she deserved it," he said.

"Yes she did."

A silence hung in the air.

"Well, I am late," said Clara. "Have a nice evening Adrian." She walked down the corridor to leave. Ella had told the whole school staff, as she'd expected. They all knew she was on the warpath about the pictures. She couldn't help smiling to herself at how forceful she had been.

She walked out of the school and found Emily waiting for her by her bike. She was wearing a bright blue light jacket, khaki green shorts, mustard colour tights and brown ankle boots.

"When are you going to let me have a go on this thing?" Emily asked, leaning her hand on the seat.

"When you get a helmet," said Clara smiling, moving up to her. "Sorry I'm late, someone stopped me in the corridor." She put and arm around Emily's waist and kissed her gently on the cheek.

"Where have you been all weekend?" said Emily as she pulled away. "I was beginning to get worried."

"The Doctor took me away for the weekend, he dropped me back late. Late as in 6.00am this morning," Clara sighed. "I didn't have my phone with me, only saw your messages when I replied."

"Thank fuck, I thought you were pissed with me because of the state I left your neck in on Saturday," Emily sniggered, taking her hand up to Clara's neck, "impressive cover up job, that must have taken you fucking ages." She trailed a finger down towards Clara's collar bone.

Clara looked nervously around her, seeing a few kids still milling about, moving Emily's hand away, "not here," she said. "I've had enough gossip spread about me around the school today already," she laughed, beginning to walk in the direction of the station.

"Oh yeah?" said Emily, raising an eyebrow. "What was it? Some graffiti in the toilets?" Emily laughed.

"No," said Clara, "that was last week," she said sarcastically. "Apparently," she paused for dramatic effect, "I threatened another teacher."

"Really? That doesn't sound like the sort of thing you would do..." Emily looked a little concerned. "Why were they saying that?"

"According to the rumours I heard, I found out that another teacher had taken some... compromising photos of me," Clara said, "and put them online."

Emily laughed to herself, realising. "Oh, of course. And what are they saying you've done?"

"Again, I have only heard verbal reports, but the most consistent version of events is that I pinned a teacher to a wall and threatened to put a chair leg into her ribcage," Clara said, dismissively.

"What the fuck? You did not do that," Emily stated. "I know you were angry, but I really cannot believe that for a second. It sounds like attempted assault."

"What?" said Clara, laughing, "I wasn't actually going to do anything. I was angry, and the chair just happened to be there. I was just getting my own back. Someone once threatened to turn me into sandwiches with a stick. This was nothing."

"I still don't believe you," said Emily.

Clara and Emily had reached Shoreditch High Street station and went through the barriers. Clara noticed that Ella was stood a little further down the platform, leaning against the grey wall, white headphones in, scrolling through something on her phone.

"Oh god, that's her," pointed Clara, "the one with the brown coat."

"What?" said Emily, "really? That's her? The blonde one? She looks young... is she younger than me?" Emily paused. "What's her name?"

"Ella, or Miss Bright."

"Oh yeah, I remember. You like your women young don't you?" she laughed.

"For god's sake, I honestly don't know," said Clara, looking away. "Maybe."

Emily was strolling down the platform ten metres away from her by the time she turned around.

"Emily, what are you doing?" Clara sighed, moving after her, "she's not worth it, come on!"

Emily tapped Ella on the shoulder, she removed her headphones. Clara decided to hang back, using the increasing crowd as cover, realising that she wasn't going to catch up, listening to what Emily was going to do.

"Ella?" said Emily, "Ella Bright?"

"Yeah, do I know you?" said Ella.

"No, you don't," said Emily. "Not yet, anyway."

"OK, then," she said, confused, going to put her headphones back in.

"I just wanted you to meet the person that's going to..." Emily's voice muffled, Clara couldn't make out what she was saying. She couldn't risk going any closer without being seen, Emily was talking in her ear. Ella's faced dropped as Emily pulled away, smiling and then continued talking, becoming louder as the train approached the platform.

"-if you ever so much as look at her again." Emily said. "Understood?"

Ella nodded, quickly walking away from Emily into the train as the doors opened. Emily stood where she was, not moving, fixing an unblinking stare and a raised eyebrow on the train window as the doors closed.

"I guess we are getting the next train," said Clara to Emily as she approached her after the train had left the platform.

"Yeah," said Emily, smiling to herself.

"What were you saying to her?" Clara asked.

"Oh nothing," said Emily. "A few casual empty lesbian threats, that sort of thing. More importantly I'm definitely younger than her."

"Well I'm glad you've cleared that up," Clara said sarcastically.

"I was just letting her know what she was missing," Emily smirked. "And that as I'm a proper photographer I'll make sure that my photos are at least in focus and have decent lighting."

"Don't even make a joke about that," she pushed Emily away from her, laughing.

Emily went to kiss her, pushing her back against the platform wall. Clara turned her head away, so that Emily caught the side of her cheek, laughing, "not here, we've already run into one of the teachers."

"Stop being so fucking straight," Emily sighed, reluctantly putting her hands around Clara's waist and then pulling away after a few seconds. "It's been like two days for me... hang on..." she trailed off. The next train approached and they got on.

"What?" Clara asked, screwing up her face as the train doors closed.

"How long has it been for you?" Emily asked.

"How long?" Clara said, confused.

"Since you last saw me? When did you last see me? Because, you're thin. Again."

"Oh yeah," said Clara, trying to find the best way to say this. "So umm, before I started work this morning. About 11 hours."

"Oh, because that's fair," said Emily, annoyed. "When was that?"

"Last Sunday evening," said Clara.

"That was over a week ago!" said Emily, "I can hardly even remember that. Is that where you were this weekend?"

"Yes," Clara said. "Except he dropped me off late."

"I've got so many questions I want to ask you..." she paused. "So how long ago was Saturday for you then?"

Clara looked up to the ceiling as she counted on her fingers, "about six days."

"Have you disappeared off any other times that I don't know about?"

"Only once," Clara proceeded carefully, "do you remember when you came to my flat and heard us arguing-"

"That was hilarious," laughed Emily.

"Between you coming in my flat and me coming out of the living room we were gone for about three or four days."

"What?!" said Emily. "No, come on. I'd have noticed that."

The train arrived at Whitechapel station, they got off and walked to the exit.

"Where did you go?" Emily asked.

"Right then we went to the Hanging Gardens of Babylon."

"Can you go anywhere?" asked Emily, looking at her.

"Yeah," Clara said. Emily lit a cigarette.

"And how long have you been doing this?"

"Since I was 24, so between three and six years depending on how old I'm pretending to be," she laughed as they approached Emily's flat.

"Is it some sort of secret military thing?"

"No, although if something happens these people called UNIT call me up and I'm like a special advisor, like, you remember when all the planes stopped? In September last year?"

"I was in Bristol that week," said Emily, offering this as her only explanation.

"You didn't hear anything about every plane stopping still in the sky?"

"I was at a barbeque," said Emily, "someone mentioned it in passing, but it was a busy news day there. A few swans were stolen, that sort of thing. People in Bristol think planes are really slow moving loud birds."

"You were... at a barbeque?" Clara repeated, screwing up her eyes. "When all the planes stopped? You weren't watching the news?"

"It was a nice day, there were free drinks," Emily offered, exhaling smoke. "What else would I be doing?"

"When that happened, they called me out of school, I went to Spain to meet the person doing it, and then got them all released," said Clara.

"No, come on, that's rubbish," said Emily, "you're a school teacher. You are fucking having me on."

"Am I?" said Clara, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you work MI5 or something then?"

"No," Clara laughed.

"What's the application process? Can I apply?"

"It doesn't quite work like that," Clara shook her head, "it just kind of found me."

"Do you get paid?" Emily asked.

"No," said Clara. "Only get my teacher wages." They arrived at the front door of Emily's flat.

"Hang on... Is it that blue box thing?" she said.

"Is what that blue box thing?" replied Clara.

"That blue box that was in your living room, the one that all the wires were coming out of for the TV? That blue box?" Emily pointed across the road, "is that something to do with you?"

"Yes," said Clara. "That's what the Doctor travels in."

"Bit fucking small for the both of you, Isn't it?" Emily asked. "If he's not in, we could... you know?" her eyes glinted.

"No... that would be very weird."

"You can't see inside.. we could totally get away with it," Emily was strolling towards the TARDIS, holding her hand.

"I thought you wanted to get me back to yours," Clara sighed.

"You can't impress more with all your stories and then distract me with sex at the last minute," Emily said as she paced around the TARDIS. "It's just a blue box, and you definitely can't see inside. Come on, live a little, if he's not in we can have illicit... police phone box sex," she laughed.

"Seriously, will you calm down?" said Clara playfully. "And no," she said firmly. "Stay here." She opened the door and called inside. "Doctor?"

"Where have you been? I've been waiting here for days," came a faint Scottish reply. He appeared at the door and looked around.

"Hello Doctor," Clara said.

"Clara... and your Bitey visitor," the Doctor turned his head. "What is she doing here?" he pointed at Emily.

"Hello to you too," said Emily, under her breath, waving at him. "Did you finish Better Call Saul?"

"Emily," she emphasised the name, "wanted to see inside."

"Has it been that long already?" the Doctor said.

"I didn't want to just bring her in, after our conversation the last time I saw you," Clara said.

"OK, you can show her round, but no trips. And no procreating. The last time someone did that in here there was a slightly awkward situation where that baby ended up becoming my wife," he smiled painfully.

"Elizabeth the first?" said Emily. "Isn't she your wife?"

"Did you tell her about that?" he said to Clara, disappearing and then reappearing. "Technically yes, but no, I mean my other wife." He disappeared again.

"River?!" Clara said. "You didn't tell me that!"

"What sort of name is River?" asked Emily, laughing. "And that is a predicament I do not want to find myself in. Not planning to procreate."

"Go on then, in you go," she pointed with her thumb, smiling. "That's as much of an invitation or permission as you're going to get from him."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" said Emily, loudly.

"Oh yeah," said Clara, "did I mention-"

"It's bigger on the inside!" Emily said, as Clara watched her reaction. "I thought it was just a box." She moved down the ramp.

"Just a box?!" the Doctor said, incredulous, "this is not just a box. It was created over millennia! She's a powerful machine, friend and... woman. Not a sick day fixer, or a booze bus either,"  
he glared at Clara.

"It's a woman?" said Emily, laughing. "I'm inside a 'female' box? That is mental!"

"I do feel like there's a lesbian joke in there somewhere," sniggered Clara.

"Oh yeah," said Emily, she moved closer, saying under her breath in Clara's ear, "won't be the last time I do that tonight, will it?"

"Shut up," Clara narrowed her eyes and shook her head slightly, smirking.

"So this is what a time machine looks like then?" Emily asked, taking in the surroundings, she walked around the balcony level.

"This is what my time machine looks like," said the Doctor. "Can't speak for others. Haven't had my subscription to Time Machines Quartly through for ages, not sure what the current interior decoration is."

"Well, this is not what I was expecting," said Emily, "I was thinking of something like what they used in that shit film with Samantha Mumba in it."

"Which film?" the Doctor asked.

"The Time Machine," said Emily, deadpan. Clara laughed, she'd seen the film she was talking about.

"I must watch that, sounds fascinating," said the Doctor. "Is it on Netflix?"

"Can you give me back the two hours of my life I lost watching that film?" Emily said.

"Probably," the Doctor pondered for a second and then flipped a switch on the console. "There you go, it's two hours earlier than when you stepped in."

"No way! You're joking?! I'll be sure to use the time wisely. Hang on," she paused, "I've also seen Catwoman. Can you give me that time back too?" Emily said. Clara couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh no you didn't... How long was that film?" said the Doctor. "I erased it from my memory."

"About three hours," sighed Emily. "Imagine the amount of studying I could do in that time." Emily looked at her in a way that made it very obvious that she was not going to be studying anything for the next few hours, she folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. The Doctor flipped the switch again.

"Your female friend has the right idea Clara, she's not trying to save herself being drunk, or call in sick or pass herself notes, she's trying to gain time to complete her studies," the Doctor said. "I wholeheartedly approve."

"Of course she is," said Clara, sarcastically.

"What do you study?" the Doctor asked.

"Photography, Masters at the moment," Emily smiled. "I took down an exhibition at the White Cube yesterday."

"We went to see it, it was really good," added Clara.

"I met Ansel Adams once in America-"

"What?! No you didn't! Really?" Emily exclaimed.

"I turned up in one of his pictures, unfortunate accident," said the Doctor, "I was just going to look at the National Park in Yosemite. I told him if he'd just stood an inch to the left the picture would have been better because-"

"A good photo is knowing where to stand," she said, laughing.

"I also told him you can't take a good photo of something you can't really see, but he never gives me credit for that one," the Doctor smiled.

"I cannot believe this," Emily shook her head. "Is this really happening?"

"You know, he once investigated a monster in a Van Gogh painting," said Clara, getting there before the Doctor did.

"Ahh yes, the Krafayis... that was a good one," he said, "my previous one, the one before her," he pointed at Clara, who rolled her eyes, "was the inspiration for 'The Sunflowers'... I don't know where I went wrong with you. I should have noticed the three mirrors earlier."

"Do you mind?" said Clara loudly. "Did she let you get away with stuff like this?"

Emily laughed, "you two are like an old married couple, aren't you?

"No, we really aren't... I tell people he's my dad," Clara smirked, punching him on the shoulder.

"Anyway, isn't there a garage in here?" said Emily.

"Down the hall, first door on the right," the Doctor waved. Emily disappeared away.

"Thanks, Doctor," Clara said. "You didn't have to do that."

"I don't mind your friend, she seems interested, asks relevant questions, very... focussed," the Doctor said, looking at a set of dials. "I'm just looking out for you, that's all."

"I know, I know, I appreciate it, I really do," she put her hand on his arm. "You don't have to sit and guard me."

"Well, you never seem to be at your place any more," said the Doctor, "I keep turning up and waiting. I finished Battlestar Galactica the other day."

"And that is why I'm never there," sighed Clara. "Do I need to put a tie on the door handle or something?"

"Why would you put a tie on a door handle? Seems like a very odd thing to do, that wouldn't stop me," he screwed up his eyes.

"It's like university code for 'there is..." she shuddered and winced at the word, "procreating... happening inside, please do not come in', do you not know that?" said Clara.

"I always thought it was for decoration?" said the Doctor.

"No it's not," sighed Clara. "From now on, no appearing in my bedroom unexpectedly, OK? And you need to learn to knock."

"Or listen for the fox like wailing?" he said, she was unsure if he was trying to wind her up.

"Shut up," she chided him.

Emily appeared from the lower level.

"So I found the garage, and the swimming pool, and the library. Wow," she said. "Do you have, like, a bedroom in here?"

"Somewhere, if the TARDIS lets me stay, she can be a little temperamental," said Clara.

Emily moved her mouth to say something, smirking.

"And in answer to your next question?" Clara said sternly. "No." Emily bit her lip in a way that made her want to leave immediately. She laughed to herself.

"What was her next question? When did you start reading minds?" the Doctor.

"I haven't, never mind," said Clara. "Emily I think we should go. You don't want to waste the five hours study time the Doctor has helpfully given you."

"Thanks Doctor," said Emily, walking towards door, "I'm sure I'll see you soon." Clara went to follow her.

"And where do you think you're going?" the Doctor said to Clara.

"What do you mean?" said Clara, turning around to face him. "I'm leaving as well."

"The last time I checked, studying was a one person activity," he said, "you with your wide face," he pointed," you'll only distract her." What excuse was she going to give him that he'd believe?

"I thought as Clara is a teacher, she'd be able to help me with a study plan," Emily said, waiting at the door.

"For secondary school children who do English, Clara, in what possible way does that lend itself to a Masters in Photography?" said the Doctor.

"I have many transferrable skills," said Clara, through gritted teeth.

"We've got work to do, some galaxy or star system or country is about to be invaded and they need a school teacher to run their army for the day because I tell them to," the Doctor indicated, "etc etc."

"I have left my things at Emily's," said Clara, trying her next line, "I need to pick them up before we leave."

"No you didn't and don't," the Doctor said, facing away from her, not moving, "you're wearing your coat and you have your bag."

"I'm really tired, I need to go home," said Clara.

"You can have a sleep patch or I can drop you home," said the Doctor.

"I need to prepare for my lessons tomorrow," said Clara.

"If they are up to your usual standard, you can do what you normally do and print off the Wikipedia entry of whatever you are teaching."

Clara mouthed the word 'sorry' to Emily and held her arms out. Emily thought for a moment, before smiling.

"We need to say goodbye," said Emily, her eyes twinkling.

"Ok, fine," said the Doctor, "just do it outside, and shut the door. If it takes as long as last time you probably need to get started now."

"Seriously?" said Clara, and then laughed under her breath.

"Close the door when you come back in," he called out.

"Bye Doctor," said Emily, turning her head to smirk and raise an eyebrow at Clara.

"I'll be very quick," Clara shouted back inside as she shut the door behind her. "And now we need to run."

Emily and Clara smiled at each other, sprinting off in the direction of the flat. Emily unlocked the door and Clara just about managed to slip inside as the Doctor came pacing out. They both leaned back against the door and high fived each other, laughing, trying to regain their breath.


	19. Chapter 19

Emily carefully walked up a couple of stairs to peer through the small glass panel above the door.

"Shit!" she said, "he's coming and he does not look happy."

"He never looks happy, it's the eyebrows mainly," said Clara. "We should really go upstairs, he has a way of opening doors."

"What?" said Emily. There was a loud bang which reverberated onto Clara, still leaning back against the door.

"Is he wearing the sunglasses?" said Clara.

"Yeah, not especially sunny, seems a bit strange."

There was a large groan from the other side.

"Hang on a minute," said Emily, "he's heading back."

"Let me see," Clara went to join Emily on the same step. The Doctor went back inside the TARDIS, closing the door behind him.

"Has that box just disappeared?" said Emily.

"Yes," said Clara, "that's what it does."

"I bet he is pissed with you," Emily said, slightly sing song, smiling.

"He'll get over it," laughed Clara as they walked up the stairs holding hands. "Emily," said Clara, noticing she was holding a motorbike helmet in her other hand, "where did you get that from?"

"Oh this? I've borrowed it," she smiled.

"How on earth did you get that out?" Clara said, "I didn't even notice."

"I've been taking lessons from Rich," Emily said sarcastically. "Now, I can have a go on your bike."

"Only I ride my bike, you may be a passenger."

"Oh, I may, may I? Also means we can go to yours," said Emily. "I have very fond memories of the kitchen floor there."

Clara laughed, following her onto the third floor landing. She went to kiss Emily, quickly pressing her back into door, unable to wait any longer. Emily's hand was on the back of her neck, pulling her in, smiling in between kisses, it was much more intense than the last time Clara had kissed her.

"We need to get inside..." Clara said in breaths between kisses, "... right now."

Emily turned around momentarily to use the key to unlock the door, and then continued kissing Clara whilst walking backwards inside. Emily pushed Clara backwards into the door to close it. Clara threw her bag off her and onto the floor. Emily dropped her own bag and the helmet and tugged at Clara's leather jacket, eventually pulling it off as they continued kissing more urgently, walking slowly backwards through the living room.

Clara undid Emily's blue jacket and put her hands around her waist. Emily had undone all but two buttons on Clara's burgundy shirt. Clara had Emily's jacket off and in her hands, throwing it away and then her hand up inside her top, whilst carrying on kissing.

They were more than halfway towards the bedroom in the kitchen and both in various stages of advanced undress before a voice spoke.

"Oh, hi, Em, Carla. You're back early, aren't you?" Lewis interrupted them.

They looked up to see Lewis sat on the sofa next to them and the Doctor sat in the single armchair watching Bargain Hunt. His eyes snapped to Clara's as she noticed him.

"Shit-" said Clara, blushing red.

"What the fuck-" said Emily at the same time.

"Hello Clara, fancy seeing you here," the Doctor said. "This," he pointed at them, "does not look like studying."

"Shit," breathed Clara. She could feel herself shaking with shock as she picked up her shirt off the kitchen side to cover herself.

"We are studying the... err... female... form..." Emily offered, pulling up her shorts.

"If it's that hot in here you can just turn the heating down you know, much easier than removing clothing," the Doctor mused.

"Are you both skiving off to have fanny fun over here?" Lewis said. "I'd prefer it if you didn't."

"Fuck off, Lewis," said Emily. "What do we do?" she said under her breath to Clara, pulling down her top.

"How quickly can you run?" whispered Clara, buttoning up her shirt quickly.

"Who's Fanny Fun? Are you expecting someone else?" said the Doctor. "And why do you not like her?" he said to Lewis.

"Excellent," Lewis laughed. "I don't like her because she's loud and smells weird."

"Shut up," snapped Emily.

The Doctor stood up, "OK, right, Clara, let's go." He paused, "and get yourself dressed."

"You know, Doctor, I think I'm OK staying here with Lewis," said Clara, still in shock, doing up the button on her jeans.

"But you clearly don't like him," said the Doctor. He was right, of course, "so why would you want to do that?"

"We've made up," Clara lied. "It's OK, I can take over from you watching Bargain Hunt with him. I'm sure you have work to do."

"We have work to do, Clara," he emphasised the word 'we'.

"We have work to do," said Emily under her breath to Clara, mirroring the Doctor.

Clara turned around to face away from the Doctor and mouthed the word 'bedroom' at Emily silently as she did up her belt.

"Ok Doctor," said Clara reluctantly, "I'm coming."

"That's what she said," Lewis sniggered in the background.

"Very observant," said the Doctor looking at Lewis, "that is what she said."

"Goodbye... Emily," said Clara, smirking, going in to hug her. "Give me ten minutes," she whispered, using the opportunity to quickly run her tongue along Emily's neck up to her ear, pulling away with a cheeky smile as she slipped her phone into Emily's back pocket.

"Make it five or I will start without you," Emily breathed back at her.

"Don't you fucking dare," warned Clara quietly, glaring at Emily.

"Bye Doctor," Emily said before stalking off in the direction of the bedroom.

Clara walked towards the living room, screwing up her face, straightening her shirt and fixing a few stray strands of hair.

"Denied," said Lewis loudly whilst looking at his phone. He laughed. Clara weighed up various options in her head. "Bye Doctor!"

The Doctor opened the lock and held the door open for Clara, foiling her second idea of locking him out. The Doctor followed her out into the landing and closed the door behind him. She waited until they got a floor down before trying her next attack.

"Oh," said Clara. "I've left my bag upstairs," she said.

"It's ok," he said, "I picked it up for you," handing her bag over.

"Oh," she said, annoyed, as she took it from him, "thank you."

They got down to the front door, Clara opened it and held it open for him, hoping he would leave before her.

"What sort of man would I be if I didn't say, ladies first?" he smiled.

"Why, thank you," said Clara through gritted teeth.

The Doctor shut the door firmly behind him, ruling out another option for her. She was quickly running out of available options. He strolled across the road in front of her, heading towards the TARDIS.

"So where are we going to go today," the Doctor pondered out loud, "maybe that blue planet? What do you say?"

"Whatever," Clara said, impatient and annoyed. Even though she could easily get the Doctor to drop her off the minute they had left, today she couldn't wait. She had one more play left - her phone. The Doctor stepped inside the TARDIS and left the door open for her.

Clara looked in her bag pointedly whilst standing in the doorway, and patted down her pockets. "Where's my phone?" she said. "I must have left it up there..."

"You don't need it," said the Doctor, "unless you are planning on wandering off." He smiled at her. Clara looked up at the third floor window and saw Emily standing at the window, reading an imaginary watch. She knew she had to be up there, not in the TARDIS right now.

"I do need it," Clara said. She caught Emily's eye, holding up one finger at her. "It comes in useful, what if I need a torch or a calculator... or... an alarm clock?" Was this going to work?

"Hmm," the Doctor contemplated. "Ok, but be quick."

"I will," Clara lied. She jogged across the road and pressed the buzzer, laughing to herself.

"Hello?" Lewis answered in a crackly voice, laughing. "Who is there?" There was a loud amount of noise in the background.

"It's Clara, I appear to have accidentally left my phone upstairs, can I come in and get it?"

"Oh, ok, I'll bring it down for you," he laughed. "No need to come up, I need fags anyway."

"I'd hate to tear you away from Bargain Hunt, I'll come up," she said as the buzzer went. Clara stepped inside and climbed the three sets of stairs in record time.

Emily was waiting at the door for her. "Forgot... your phone?" Emily laughed and shook her head as she stepped inside. "How very careless-"

"Shut up," Clara interrupted, putting a finger on Emily's lips and closing the door behind her. They started kissing gently and then more urgently, Clara took off her own jacket and threw it behind her onto the sofa. After a couple of minutes Lewis threw a cushion over at them.

"Can you please go and do that somewhere else?" he shouted. "I've already seen more than enough of you both today."

Emily laughed and pulled Clara by the hand quickly towards her bedroom.

"And please try to keep the noise down..." he called after them. The intercom buzzed loudly as Clara kicked shut Emily's bedroom door behind her.

"So where were we?" said Emily, before moving in to pin Clara to the door, kiss her and undo her shirt again, letting it drop to the floor.

...

Clara was first to emerge from the room a couple of hours later, covered loosely in one of Emily's discarded dresses as she ventured to the toilet. When she walked back, she saw the Doctor waiting for her in the kitchen as she opened the bedroom door to go back in.

"Are you ready to leave yet?" said the Doctor.

Clara contemplated her answer. "No, I am not," she smirked, closing the door slightly. "What are you doing here?"

"I was waiting for you to finish getting your phone."

"I'm not getting my phone," she smiled, closing the door, using the time to get a glass of water.

"Why are you wearing that?" he asked, pointing at her, "that's not your usual style. I don't like it."

"Don't worry, I am not going to be wearing it for very long," she teased.

"What are you doing in there?" he asked, pacing towards the bedroom.

"What do you think we're doing?" she said sarcastically.

"It sounds like you are murdering two foxes," Lewis offered from the other side of the room.

"Thank you, Lewis," Clara mocked him. The Doctor was walking towards the bedroom door. "Doctor, you are not allowed in there," she warned.

"What in there is more exciting than a journey with me? It must be something really worth seeing."

"Oh yeah," she sighed, going back towards the door.

"Clara, what the fuck are you doing?" Emily shouted from inside. "You can't leave me like this. Get back in here!"

"Doctor," she said quietly, "Lewis over there knows all about what is happening in here, I think you need to ask him to explain it to you, he loves describing it to people," she sighed, "I would but I'm a little... tied up at the moment." She couldn't stop herself, smirking widely.

"Lewis?" Clara shouted.

"Yes, Carla?" he called out as a reply. "Surprised you can move your tongue to form words."

"The Doctor has something to ask you..." she said.

"Yes Doctor?" said Lewis.

"Go on, go," said Clara, shooing him away. "He'll tell you all about it." She disappeared back inside the room, laughing to herself, knowing she was probably going to regret this in the morning.

...

Clara woke up at 5.30am the next morning, an hour before her alarm. Remembering what had happened the last time she'd tried to get ready in this place she decided to get up. Emily was facing towards her, hugging the duvet. Clara sniggered to herself as she recalled what they'd been doing all evening, running her hand down Emily's cheek, down her neck and her arm.

She found a towel and ventured towards the bathroom, finding it thankfully empty. She left to return to Emily's room, finding a strange man wrapped in a towel around his waist waiting outside.

"Morning," she said awkwardly,

"Wow, good morning," he said, smiling, looking her up and down. "I'm Deep... And who are you?"

"Clara," she said, uncomfortably.

"And who are you here with?" he smiled widely at her.

"Umm... I'm with Emily," Clara said.

"Oh, how disappointing," he said, resigned. "Shame," disappearing inside the bathroom.

Clara screwed up her eyes before going back inside Emily's room. Emily stirred as she sat down on the bed.

"A strange topless man just tried to chat me up outside your bathroom," Clara said, laughing slightly.

"Strange man?" Emily said, yawning.

"Said his name was Deep?" said Clara.

"Oh yeah," Emily sighed, sleepily, "he lives here as well." She turned around to look at her.

"Seemed quite upset when I told him I was here with you," Clara laughed.

"I bet he was," Emily laughed, turning over to face her. "If only he knew what we were doing in there the other day..."

Clara smirked, drying her hair. "Can I borrow your stuff? I forgot I was staying over yesterday morning. So what are you doing today?"

"Yeah, take what you want, I have uni at nine and then working tonight... and tomorrow," Emily said. "How about you?"

"Well, I'm teaching, unless a Scottish man swoops me off somewhere," said Clara, "I am not missing another day of school. Did I tell you what the Doctor did the day I slept in?"

Emily shook her head.

"When I left here, he appeared in the box, and dropped me off at school at 6am that morning."

"No fucking way!" laughed Emily. "He did that?"

"One of the worst days I have ever had... locked in the school car park for two hours in subzero temperatures, the kids thought I was ill or pregnant, and then Miss Bright confronted me in the toilets, and we had a surprise OFSTED inspection..."

"You're joking!" said Emily. "You didn't tell me. That is hilarious."

"When we were arguing," Clara thought back, "the other day, that's what it was about."

"Makes sense," said Emily, "is he still outside?"

"I didn't check," said Clara. "It's been, what, eighteen hours, he doesn't do sitting in one place very well. Doesn't strike me as the sort of man who would sit in an armchair and fall asleep."

Clara dried her hair, keeping an eye on the time.

Emily sat up in bed and looked at her phone as Clara straightened her hair.

"Can I borrow another top? I can't go into work wearing the same thing two days in a row. That is teaching suicide."

"When am I going to get my other shirt back?" Emily said. "I'm going to need more clothes at the rate you're going," she laughed.

"I'll take that as a yes. Do you have anything that is suitable to teach at a secondary school?" Clara got up and went over to the wardrobe, "something that isn't vest tops, or shirt dresses, or bright colours? Bright colours do not do well," she held up various items to her. "Something I'd not considered as a side of effect of sleeping with a woman was the extension of wardrobe items. I like it."

"We are slightly different sizes, but OK," Emily smiled, still looking at her phone.

Clara selected a light blue denim shirt from the wardrobe. Clara got dressed and tried it on, looking in the mirror, "not something I'd usually wear, will I do?"

"If you were my teacher I'd want to sleep with you," Emily laughed.

"Not quite what I was asking," Clara laughed as she sat down on the bed to pull her shoes on. Clara checked the time, 7am. She stood up to roll the sleeves of the shirt up in the mirror. "For an improvised outfit, it's not too bad. Now, where did I leave my bag?"

"Outside I think," said Emily, eyeing her up in the mirror. "although I'm not sure I'll be able to let you out looking like that," she grinned.

"What is wrong with you?" said Clara, laughing. She left the bedroom, closing the door behind her, finding her bag in the living room, the Doctor was nowhere to be seen. She went to the window, unable to see the TARDIS where it had been parked yesterday. She went back in to see Emily, fishing makeup out of her bag.

"Is he still there?" said Emily, now wearing a t-shirt, sat up in bed.

"No," said Clara, "I told him to ask Lewis what we were doing last night. He's probably skulked off for a few days. He's used to being number one in my life, I don't think he likes the fact I have something else to distract me."

"Am I good distraction?" asked Emily.

"No," Clara said deadpan, she impersonated Emily, looking at her in the mirror, "you're fucking rubbish." She put the finishing touches to her make up, leaving her lipstick out.

"Fuck off," laughed Emily.

"So, when am I going to see you next?" said Clara, turning around to look at her.

"Does Thursday suit Miss Oswald?" Emily said, knowing she was winding her up.

"Call me Miss Oswald again and I will not be responsible for my actions," said Clara, smirking. "But yes, I'm free on Thursday."

"At yours?" said Emily, smiling. "I thought we agreed that I could ride your bike?"

"We agreed that you could be a passenger," Clara said, "turn up and I'll give you a lift, if not you need to get there on your own. Agreed?"

"Sounds good to me," Emily smiled.

"I need to leave," Clara said, climbing on the bed to kiss Emily.

"Do you?" said Emily, when she paused for breath, she undid the top button on Clara's shirt.

"No," said Clara, playfully, doing the button back up, mid-kiss. "I really need to go," she continued kissing her. "I will see you on Thursday, OK?" she said as she moved off. Clara went up to the mirror and put her lipstick on, smirking as Emily watched her in the reflection.

"Yes, you will," sighed Emily, still looking at her, smiling.

Clara went back to her and put a lipstick heavy kiss on Emily's cheek, collected her things and then breezed out of the door, shutting it behind her. She paused, smiling to herself before going back in, poking her head inside.

"By the way, if I do not receive a constant stream of suggestive text messages until Thursday... you will get detention," she smirked. Emily laughed as she closed the door.


	20. Chapter 20

Clara left Emily's flat after picking up her coat from the other room, the motorbike helmet was still lying on the floor where Emily had left it last night.

She took the Overground into work, thankfully not running into any teachers on the way. It was very evident when she walked into the staff room that a hushed silence descended across the room as she ventured towards her pigeon hole. There were a couple of meaningless communications in there, which she read and then put back.

She went over to make a coffee and found her way unobstructed, the people that had previously been making drinks melted out of the way.

Linda came over, her eyes sparkling, handing her the briefing sheet.

"Good morning, Linda," said Clara, a steely look in her eyes as she sipped her coffee.

"Well well well, Miss Oswald," said Linda. "Look what the cat dragged in," she said under her breath, "I see that monstrosity of a bike of yours didn't move overnight."

"I don't know what you are talking about," smiled Clara.

"Haven't seen that shirt before, not what you usually wear at all, borrow it off your boyfriend did you? Oh wait, hang on..." Linda's eyes twinkled cheekily.

"Still have no idea what you are talking about," Clara ignored her.

"Just wait until the kids find out..." Linda smirked. "All it takes is one overheard comment."

"Are you finished?" Clara said.

"What are you going to do?" Linda said, "impale me on a chair?" she let out a laugh. "Please, no-one believes her that you actually did that."

"Finished now?" Clara sneered.

"For now," Linda nodded, "yes." She toddled off in the direction of a large group of teachers.

Clara's phone vibrated in her back pocket, it was Emily. She read the message and laughed to herself. She had started with the suggestive messages already. She typed a quick reply.

Clara saw Ella on the other side of the staff room, narrowing her eyes, giving her a deadly glare, yet still smiling. Clara debated going over to say something but decided to continue with the long glare. Ella looked unsettled, moving out of Clara's field of vision, she smiled to herself, still wondering what Emily had said to her. She could feign ignorance if ever asked about it, couldn't she?

"Clara, can I have a word?" said Bill, from behind her.

"Morning Bill," sad Clara, "how are you?"

"I'm very well thank you," he said, not reaching out a hand to her shoulder this time, "I wanted to speak to you regarding something."

"Yes of course," Clara said, nervously. Was this about yesterday?

"We have some visitors from the LEA coming in this afternoon," he paused, "I was wondering if they could sit in on your Year 10 class this afternoon."

Clara breathed a sigh of relief. "Sure, I'll review my lesson plan."

"Great," he said. "I'm sure you'll impress them."

He walked off to address the whole staff room before the first bell rang loudly.

...

Tuesday and Wednesday were largely uneventful, punctuated by the occasional dirty message from Emily. The two middle aged male visitors from the LEA had been impressed by her lesson on Tuesday afternoon. She was beginning to become addicted to looking at her phone, expecting a message to be there. They were becoming increasingly filthy, to the point of not even being able to look at them unless she was away from other people.

She arranged to go out for dinner after work on Wednesday with her friend Nina.

...

Clara met Nina at the Bodeans on Clapham High Street, having not seen her for a couple of weeks. She was about 5'8" tall, had olive skin and had a lionesque mane of brown and bleached blonde curly hair. Nina had been one of her closest friends since she'd been looking after the Maitlands in Chiswick. Clara saw her walk in and smiled widely.

"Oh my god, Clara! It feels like I haven't seen you in an absolute age," she said, on the verge of squealing, hugging Clara so tightly she almost felt the breath squeezed out of her.

"Nina! You can let go now," said Clara, struggling to breathe, she kissed her on both cheeks when she released her. They both sat down opposite each other.

"You're looking... well," Nina said. She'd noticed already.

"Thank you," said Clara, blushing slightly. "So are you?" she offered as a reply.

"No!" she gasped. "Clara!"

"What?" Clara said deferently.

Nina screwed up her eyes, "you're seeing someone, I can see it written all over your face!" she said excitedly.

"Maybe," Clara gave as a vague answer, smiling, looking down at the menu, in a way that could only be translated as 'yes'.

"Clara!" she squealed, "I want you to give me all the details!"

The waiter came over to take their drink order, they decided to share a bottle of rose wine, Clara allowed herself one glass, even though it was a school night.

"So who is he? What's he do? Where did you meet him?" Nina fired at her after the waiter had gone.

"OK, OK, slow down!" Clara said, "I don't even know if it is anything yet. It's been like a week and a half."

"A week and a half?! And I'm only just hearing about this?! And you haven't put him off already? What miracle is that?" she joked.

"Shut up," laughed Clara.

"So who is he?" said Nina, affixing her gaze on Clara. "Another teacher from your school? Come on! Tell me!" This was going to be awkward.

"No it's not another teacher from my school," said Clara, looking at the menu to distract herself.

"So how did you meet him?" Nina fished. There was no use lying to Nina, she was going to have to do it.

"Funny story really, we just bumped into each other Friday before last, and then got talking," said Clara. She was preparing herself to drop a bombshell.

"How random!" said Nina. "What's he do then?"

Clara read something low down on the menu before she spoke. "It's not a he," she blushed, not raising her head.

"What?!" squealed Nina, louder than she expected, loud enough for the couple at the next table to glance over.

"Alright, do you mind keeping it down," Clara said in a hushed whisper. "I know," she laughed, still browsing the menu.

"Clara Oswald," she said in a hushed tone, "I have know you for almost ten years..."

"I know that," she couldn't make eye contact yet.

"How the hell did this happen?!" Nina exclaimed.

"It just sort of... happened," she said, blushing.

"Don't give me that shit, Clara, I am not falling for it," Nina laughed, "it just sort of happened, whatever. This is me you are talking to! I want details and I want them right now. You don't just do stuff like this! What's her name?" This was going to be a machine gun like assault of questions from now on.

"Emily," said Clara, putting down her menu, directing her gaze past Nina to a table further inside the restaurant.

"And how old is she?" Nina asked.

Clara braced herself for a loud reaction. "Twenty four," she said quietly, feeling herself blushing heavily, looking away.

Nina laughed out loud, putting her hands on the table. "Twenty four! Are you joking?! She's young enough to be one of your kids!"

"Not quite," said Clara, allowing herself the smallest of smiles. "But yes."

"Jesus Christ Clara!" Nina breathed. "Twenty four!"

"I know, I know," said Clara, embarrassed. "Like I said, it just sort of happened."

"What does she do?"

"Photography student," said Clara. The waiter came over with their wine and they ordered food.

"Ok..." Nina laughed to herself once the waiter had disappeared. "What does she look like? No I'm sorry, I can't even," she tried to control her breath.

Clara dug out her phone and pulled up Emily's Facebook profile, selecting a picture. "Here," she handed Nina her phone, "that's her."

"Oh my god, Clara," Nina had calmed down slightly. "I still cannot get my head around this. She's... pretty? Is that what you're supposed to say?" She flipped through a few of the photos and then handed the phone back.

Clara looked at Emily's picture, smiling to herself and then put her phone away.

"So..." Nina lowered her voice, Clara knew what she was going to ask. "Have you..." she looked around, "you know?"

Clara blushed heavily and half smiled, finding herself distracted by the table in the distance now there was no menu in front of her. She put the wine glass to her lips, not drinking.

"No!" Nina gasped loudly. "When?"

"Saturday before last-" she counted on her thumb, smirking to herself.

"The day after you met?! Clara!" she exclaimed.

"Sunday morning, Tuesday night..." she continued counting on her fingers, "Wednesday morning-"

"What?!"

"-Thursday evening, Friday evening, Saturday morning... and Monday just gone."

"I do not believe this... at all!" Nina said pointedly.

Clara smirked to herself, only able to laugh.

"No wonder you haven't had time to meet me!" Nina observed. "You dirty cow!"

"Ok, Ok, save it," Clara said. "It's caught me just as much by surprise."

"I was going to say you look like you've lost weight, and now I know why! Jesus, Clara! Off shagging some girl almost half your age-"

"Umm... excuse me, not quite, thanks!" Clara interrupted.

"-every day of the week like some Craig David song! What is wrong with you?!" Nina sighed.

"So, anything new with you?" said Clara, trying to change the subject, sipping her wine.

"That is not going to work, we are still discussing your new found spontaneous lesbianism."

"I wouldn't exactly call it that..." said Clara.

"What would you call it?" said Nina.

"Umm..." Clara thought to herself. "Just something that is happening."

"Whatever you say," dismissed Nina.

"Come on, are you telling me you've not tried it?" said Clara, "Frankly I'd be surprised if you haven't."

"I may have," Nina smiled as she swirled her wine around her glass, "but only some kissing and drunk fumbling."

"I knew it," said Clara, smiling.

"So come on then," Nina raised an eyebrow at her, "spill the details."

"Like what?" Clara asked.

"What's it like?" Nina asked cheekily.

"What's it like?" Clara laughed. "What do you think it's like?"

"I want details!" Nina demanded. "Come on Clara!"

Clara laughed. "OK, OK..." she smiled to herself. "Different."

"Different?!" Nina screwed up her face, "that's all you're giving me?"

"Well, what else do you want to know? I'm not giving you specifics!"

Their food arrived, interrupting Nina's reply.

"Is it..." she lowered her voice, picking up the knife and fork next to her, "good?"

"Oh yeah," Clara sighed, picking up her fork and using it to point to the ceiling, "it's good."

"How good?" said Nina, holding a forkful of steak up to her lips.

Clara looked at her, smirking. "Amazing... Nina, I can't even tell you."

"So when do I get to meet her?" Nina asked. "Need to see you together."

"Not yet," Clara said before having a mouthful of salad.

"Why?"

"Until I know what it is," Clara paused, "I don't want to rush into anything after what happened with Danny."

"Ok," Nina said, taking the hint.

"Besides, I'm kind of enjoying what it is at the moment," Clara added.

"What? Shagging?" Nina laughed.

"Yes," Clara agreed. She allowed herself a smile as she drank her wine.

"Does she know about... him?" Nina asked, referring to the Doctor.

"Mmm," said Clara, acknowledging her whilst eating.

"Risky," said Nina, whilst cutting another sliver of steak. "Quite a large card to play when you don't even know what is happening..."

"I know, I know," said Clara, "I had to explain what was going on after I came back and lost like half my body weight in a couple of hours, because she's surprisingly observant."

"Is she, like, OK with it?" said Nina

"Appears to be," nodded Clara. "Seems remarkably unfazed by the whole thing."

"She's young, though," said Nina, "like you were when you first met him, weren't you the same age?"

"Yeah," Clara agreed, "and besides, he gave her five hours back for having to sit through The Time Machine and Catwoman the film on Monday."

"Do you think he can give me that time back?" Nina laughed.

"Which we then utilised..." Clara tried to stop herself sniggering.

"You didn't?!" Nina paused her food in front of her.

"Yep," she confirmed. "You wouldn't even believe some of-"

"You dirty cow! Was he OK with this?"

"He thought she was studying," Clara laughed lightly. "I'm not sure he really understands what's going on... he seems upset that I have someone other than him to distract me."

"And he's probably jealous," said Nina, watching her as she took a sip of wine.

"More protective, I would say," Clara mused.

"Jealous," repeated Nina. "You know he loves you, probably annoyed that you've shacked up with some young girl before him, especially as he's old now."

"Maybe," said Clara.

"He totally loves you," Nina said.

"We have quite a complicated relationship," said Clara. "A completely non-sexual, I hasten to add, complicated relationship."

"If you say so," Nina said.

"He was upset with me for getting with her the same day I met her-"

"To be honest, that worries me a little bit-" Nina interrupted.

"I got really drunk and passed out," said Clara, finishing one of the last forkfuls of salad.

"What?!" said Nina, "with strangers? Clara, come on. No wonder he was upset!"

"But I somehow managed to swap myself for the drunk passed out version of me, don't ask me how..." Clara started.

"That is messed up," Nina reacted. She ate the last piece of the steak and set her knife and fork down.

"I know, it is messed up," said Clara, "she knows about this, by the way."

"And she knows about this?!" Nina shouted. "Jesus."

"Yeah," Clara finished her food.

"And she's still seeing you?" Nina said, incredulous.

"Yes," said Clara, dabbing her mouth with the napkin.

"And she's OK with it?"

"Seems to be," Clara smiled. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, she pulled it out as the waiter took their empty plates. It was a suitably graphic message from Emily that made Clara blush heavily.

"Is that her?" asked Nina as Clara was still reading the message.

"Yeah," smiled Clara, going red.

Nina timed her movement to perfection to snatch her phone, turning it around to read the message.

"No, Nina," she started, reaching out quickly, "please don't," she said resigned as Nina began reading. She saw her mouth drop open, Nina was scrolling through the rest of the messages, "and don't look at any of the others," she said quietly.

"Clara... Oswald!" Nina gasped, she was part laughing.

"Do you want to give me my phone back, or?" said Clara, highly embarrassed.

"Fucking hell, Clara!" Nina exclaimed as she passed the phone back to her. "Have you done all of that?"

"Some, not all," she smiled, still blushing.

"Even...?"

"That I am not telling you," she teased.

"I feel like I should get STD tested just after reading those messages, who are you seeing? EL James?" Nina observed. "Is that what the E stands for?"

"It was your choice to read them," Clara laughed.

"I have known you for-"

"-ten years, yes I know," Clara sighed deeply.

"I just never would have imagined you doing this," said Nina, shaking her head.

"And in other news... I also found out this week," Clara paused, " thatI slept with a female teacher at my school about six months ago..." said Clara, slowly, as she poured herself a half glass of wine.

"What?!"

"Remember that work do I ended up topless with the tequila and the shoe with no recollection of what happened?:

"Oh yeah," Nina laughed. "That was too funny."

"Apparently I slept with her in the garden-"

Nina choked on a sip of wine. "No!"

"-on the stairs and in her bed," she laughed.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"But... we do not like her," Clara said.

"Why?:

"She took pictures, of me, and posted them in the school's WhatsApp group. I only found this out last week as well."

"Bitch!" snapped Nina. "Do you want me to-?"

"Tell me about it," sighed Clara. "Although," she lilted her head, "I don't think she'll be bothering me again."

"Why?" said Nina suspisciously, "what did you do?"

"Oh nothing," Clara deflected with a smile.

"Tell me!" demanded Nina. "I love angry Clara! What did you do?" she repeated loudly.

"You know, the usual," Clara mused.

"Was it like that time you ripped that girl's hair extensions out?" Nina laughed.

"Worse," said Clara, remembering.

"And when you pushed... thingy off that pier in Blackpool?"

"Worse..."

"So what did you do?"

"Oh you know, offered to make a chair part of her ribcage..." Clara said quietly.

"You didn't!" said Nina, "you must have been pissed to do that, wow!"

"I turned myself up to 11 that day," she laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh... Emily and her flatmate Lewis told me I'm an eight, but apparently when I get angry I get more attractive," she laughed.

"See they like angry Clara too," said Nina smiling. "So when are you next seeing her?"

"Tomorrow night," Clara smirked.

"Here or hers? Where does she live?"

"In Whitechapel, fairly close to my work, but no tomorrow she's coming here," said Clara.

"You two can go to the Two Brewers!" Nina laughed, directing a finger to the gay bar opposite. "Has she been over already?"

"Yeah," she spent most of Friday watching Netflix with the Doctor.

"You know, this whole thing sounds awfully serious," Nina pointed out. "You know what lesbians are like!"

"I don't know," Clara pondered. "All I know is that we're going to meet and end up having sex, lots of sex, tomorrow night... and I cannot wait."

A silence hung in the air.

"So when is she moving in?" Nina asked sarcastically.

"Shut up," Clara said, narrowing her eyes and laughing as they finished the bottle of wine.


	21. Chapter 21

On Thursday afternoon Clara was standing at the back of the class listening to the kids read aloud 'To Kill A Mockingbird' a paragraph at a time. The last bell rang and they all rushed out, eager to get home. The Doctor hadn't turned up since Monday.

"Have a nice evening, everyone!" she said at the empty classroom.

She gazed out of the window and saw Emily sat against the wall at the edge of the car park, smoking a cigarette and looking at her phone.

Clara's phone buzzed in her pocket, she took it out to see Emily ringing her.

"Hello," Clara said, smiling to herself.

"I can see you, you know," Emily laughed. "And I like what you are wearing..."

Clara opened the window and leaned out slightly, "is that better?" she said to Emily.

"I'm imagining that top displays cleavage," said Emily, "I may need a closer inspection." She laughed.

"I would say you are right," Clara looked down at herself, undoing the zip on her white blouse slightly.

"So when will you be finished? I see... children leaving," said Emily, "looks like your work is done."

"I wish it was as simple as that," Clara sighed, "give me ten minutes. I presume you will be wanting a lift?"

Emily held up the helmet. "No, of course not," she said sarcastically. "I'm just sat here for no reason whatsoever."

"I'll be out shortly," Clara laughed, closing the window. "Please don't talk to anyone today, ok?"

"I'll try not to," Emily laughed.

Clara collected her things and tidied up, smiling to herself. She went to leave by the door, pulling on her black leather trench coat on the way.

She locked the door of her classroom and turned round to immediately found herself in the doorway of the TARDIS as she tripped up the step.

"Oh hello Clara, there you are!" said the Doctor brightly.

Clara turned around to see the TARDIS completely covering the door to her classroom, the only way to leave the room was through the windows. She sighed to herself.

"Hello Doctor," said Clara.

"Glad I've run into you-"

"Doesn't look like I had a choice," said Clara looking around her.

"That blue planet is waiting Clara, all the wonders of the universe..." he walked over, shutting the doors behind her.

"I actually am busy tonight," said Clara, "I don't suppose that matters?"

"And after your frankly Houdiniesque escapades earlier-"

"On Monday," Clara corrected. "It's now Thursday."

"Not important, come on, let's go and explore a planet! A nebula! Or a underwater forest!"

"Do we have to go right now?" Clara said, sighing.

"Yes we do, let's have an adventure!" he held out his hands.

"And the fact I have plans?"

"Put them on hold," he pointed at the TARDIS console, "I'll drop you back in five minutes."

"Promise?"

"I promise. On," he pointed at his chest, "both my hearts" He grinned at her.

Clara folded her arms, saying nothing before shaking her head. "I really do have something very important to do."

"I'll drop you back in time for school tomorrow?"

"No," Clara said."I need to stay here now."

"If you say so," said the Doctor.

"Are you not upset with me?" she asked, approaching him.

"I'm not upset with you," he said, turning away.

"Ok then," Clara nodded. "I can't help it, ok? Sometimes when you meet someone there's some sort of thing that happens inside you that makes you only want to be with them-"

"Afraid not,," the Doctor shook his head, "It's a chemical called seratonin."

"Oh," said Clara, deflated.

"And you are giving it off in spades!" the Doctor said, strolling away from her. "Wow!"

"Can't you just let me see her?" said Clara, pleading. "Please? I've been looking forward to this for the last three days, come on," said Clara.

"By the way, I do know what's happening," he said, "you didn't have to get the flatmate to tell me," he inspected the console. "Except for the mystery... of the scissors."

"What?" said Clara, confused.

"The flatmate told me you use scissors on each other, that cannot be safe..."

"I don't..." she trailed off, blushing. "Oh dear god, please do not ever ever say that to me again."

"So what do you do with them?" He looked at her, curious.

"I am not having this conversation with you," Clara said turning away, needing to put him off, "we do not use scissors on each other. He was wrong."

"Oh, ok then," he said, "I'm glad about that!"

"Me too... Look I'm sorry, ok?" Clara said. "What can I say, it's addicting, ok?"

"Wrong... again," said the Doctor, "that's dopamine, some little part of your brain telling you you want something, and you won't stop until you get it. You've got decreased sleep, increased energy," he looked her up and down, "a subtle change in dress sense, more makeup, mild palpatations, wide eyes... I bet you're going to tell me it's all new and exciting! You can't stand to be apart from her for more than a minute."

"Well... yes," agreed Clara, blushing. "I am all those things... Is that so wrong?"

"Of course it's not, the human race has made itself on those feelings, actually isn't there a film? Paris is a city of it, Venice is full of pictures of it, and a few canals, there is a shack of it next to a baby... who's that woman who sings about never ever ever ever ever getting back together?"

"Taylor Swift?" Clara offered.

"Yes her!" he exclaimed before adding, "she made a living out of it," he lowered his voice, "she gets royalties until the end of time with that one..."

"What's your point?" Clara sighed.

"My point?" said the Doctor. "Oh I don't have one, just wanted to impress you with my knowledge of science, geography and contemporary pop music. I'm in training for the Trivial Pursuit championship-" he began smiling.

"Doctor!" said Clara.

"So, a blue planet?" said the Doctor. "That sounds fun doesn't it?"

"Can you just pick me up tomorrow?" Clara said. "Let me out and just come back at this time tomorrow. This exact place and time, just... tomorrow."

"I'm not just someone you can reschedule," said the Doctor.

"All it would take is for me to leave and you flip that switch and in thirty seconds you can just pick me up tomorrow," she said, appealing to him. "If you take me now I'm going to be distracted... and it's going to be the only thing I talk about the whole way round..."

The Doctor grimaced. "Do you have plans to see Bitey tomorrow?"

"No, she's working. I have work drinks which I am unsurprisingly very keen to avoid. Tomorrow you can take me anywhere you want. I am all yours."

"You? Avoiding drinks? ... Anywhere?" said the Doctor.

"Just today, you need to let me go... OK?" Clara folded her arms and aimed her best gaze at the Doctor.

"Love changes everything," he paused, looking at her, confused.

"No it doesn't," said Clara, before saying, "hang on, my mum had that, I know this one... Michael..."

The Doctor lifted his eyebrows.

"I want to say B... Ba... is it Bolton or Ball?"

"Go on," the Doctor said, smiling.

"Michael... Bolton?"

The Doctor shook his head. "And I had such high hopes for you on the team. So tomorrow... Is that a date?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, smiling, opening the door, "4th March." She opened it to find her classroom door locked in front. On a second inspection there was just enough room for her to squeeze past the TARDIS into the corridor. It disappeared into thin air behind her as she hurried out.


	22. Chapter 22

Clara went outside and found Emily where she'd seen her waiting. She was still smoking as she approached.

"Hi," Clara said cheerfully."Sorry about that... someone caught me in the corridor."

Emily stood and looked her up and down. "And what is this?" said Emily, pointing at her, trying to control her laughter.

"What?" said Clara, inspecting her black jeans, boots , white top and the leather trench coat.

"It's a bit..." Emily paused, "taking over the worldy."

"Oh," said Clara, laughing."Is it the coat?"

"The coat I like," said Emily, smirking.

"I should hope so, it cost me enough," sighed Clara. "The last time I wore this ensemble I was captured and cloned."

"Cloned?" Emily said.

"Yes, she stole my bike and then blew up a plane with a bazooka-" Clara said flippantly.

"What?" Emily laughed.

"Bonnie, my clone-"

"Of course she has a name..." Emily said sarcastically.

"She tried to kill everybody and rule the world or whatever-"

"So when do I get to meet her? Because she sounds like a straightaway ten," Emily smirked.

"She cloned someone else," said Clara. "It was all very weird. So are we going or are you going to complain about my clothing all day or...?"

Emily stood up and walked with Clara to her bike, grinning.

"Who said I was complaining... But could you look any more like an motorbike assassin?" said Emily, laughing as they reached the bike. "I can totally see it now."

"That is a very good point," said a pointed voice nearby. Clara grimaced away from her view and sighed resignedly. "What do you think you look like?"

"Thanks... Linda," she hissed. Linda got into her car and left the door open.

"I hope you are careful on that... thing," Linda said, "hate you to have an unfortunate accident."

"Are you finished?" said Clara sternly.

"Who's your friend?" said Linda, smiling, looking at Emily, laughing.

"Your worst nightmare-" Emily started.

"Since when is that any of your business?" Clara deflected, pausing to let Linda leave.

"No reason," said Linda, going to close her car door. "She's very... young."

"Linda?" Clara said, glaring at her.

"Yes Miss Oswald," Linda replied, smirking.

Clara went to say something and then brought a up to her lips. She knew the perfect attack to end with. "No, it's OK, I'm sure you'll hear."

"What?" Linda said, curious.

"Oh, just some gossip... it doesn't matter." Clara smiled.

"Tell me!" demanded Linda.

"Was that what you told me earlier?" Emily said, playing along. "I can't believe that."

"Yes, yes it was," said Clara, nodding in a false agreement. "But I suppose it can wait until the morning as I'm off the clock... Bye Linda," she said brightly.

Linda looked at her and then slammed the car door loudly. Clara could see her face twisting through the glass as she drove off.

"You seem... popular..." laughed Emily. "So... can I have a go? Pretty please?" her eyes sparkled.

"That's Linda, the secretary, she hates me. And no." Clara put on her bike helmet and smirked. "Are you coming then?" she said as she sat on the bike, switching on the ignition.

"Yes, I am," said Emily, jumping on behind and pulling on her helmet, holding Clara's waist. "Even if I look like I've been captured by an assassin," she laughed.

"Ready?" said Clara, revving up the engine up, before driving off suddenly, laughing to herself, feeling Emily grip more tightly around her waist as she did a slight wheelspin to turn the corner and speed off towards Clapham.

...

Twenty minutes later Clara screeched up outside her block and switched off the ignition. She couldn't remember a time she had done this journey quicker, half trying to impress and half trying to trace home.

"Fuck's sake," said Emily, rushing to get off. "Do you always drive like that?"

"No," said Clara, smiling to herself, talking off her helmet and fluffing up her hair. "Maybe."

"Were you showing off?" asked Emily, suspisciously. "Not sure if I want to experience that again..."

"No, just wanted to get back, it's been a long day... I'm tired," Clara's eyes twinkled, she locked up her bike and strolled off away towards her block. After about ten paces she stopped. "Come on then!" she shouted and continued walking.

Emily took off the helmet, put the straps around her elbow and walked quickly to catch up with Clara.

Clara took hold of Emily's hand and practically dragged her up the stairs to her flat on the third floor, anxious to get where she was going as quickly as possible.

"What has got into you?" said Emily, a little taken aback.

"I am not quite sure, maybe it's this coat, all I know is I need you inside right now," breathed Clara facing away from Emily. She paused turning around. "Could that sound any more dodgy?" she smiled and laughed.

"Probably not," said Emily, smirking.

"I mean inside... my flat," she clarified, pointing at the door as she unlocked it.

"I'm sure you did," Emily laughed.

Clara undid the front door and held it open for Emily to walk in before she followed, closing it behind her and leaning back. Clara felt a sudden attack of nerves and butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

Emily walked up to her as she dropped her bag and the helmet on the floor. She went up to kiss Clara gently on the cheek and put her hands around her waist. She kissed her gently on the lips.

Clara responded as she felt the familiar urge return inside her, immediately wanting to take control of the kiss and walk Emily backwards. Emily stayed still, pushing her back towards the door.

Emily went to kiss Clara's neck, as she undid the belt of Clara's jacket, pulling the ends towards her to press the curves of her body again Clara's. She continued kissing as Clara ran her hands up Emily's back.

Clara undid the front zip of Emily's dark green coat, pulling one arm away to get it off. Emily was beginning to slowly undo the buttons on Clara's jacket to reveal her white blouse. Clara straightened up off the door to stand taller than Emily and take her coat off quickly. She pulled away to hang her coat up.

Emily laughed at her. "Really?" she said, kissing her neck gently.

"Yes really, shut up," Clara breathed, smiling as she reinstated the kiss. She pushed Emily backwards towards the bedroom quickly removing her white tshirt and grey vest throwing them behind her.

Emily looked down at Clara's top, unzipping it at the front slowly, the kiss was becoming increasingly rough as Clara put her hand behind Emily's neck, barely pausing for breath.

They approached the bedroom door, Emily hit it loudly as Clara felt behind for the handle. Emily undid Clara's trousers and pulled them towards her as the door fell open stopping halfway, hitting something heavily.

Clara noticed the TARDIS parked in her bedroom and groaned loudly. "Seriously?" she sighed loudly.

"What? What's the matter?" said Emily, still against the door, gripping Clara's waist.

"I have a visitor in my bedroom," said Clara, pointing, "and it's not you. Stay here," said Clara, zipping up her top. She walked into the living room to find the Doctor watching TV. "What the hell are you doing here?" she shouted.

"Oh, don't mind me," said the Doctor.

"I told you to leave me alone," she shouted, "just for twenty four hours."

"I figured you wouldn't be using the TV so decided to catch up on How I Met Your Mother," he pointed the remote to pause the screen. "Who is the woman with the yellow umbrella?"

"Get out!" Clara said loudly. She took the remote control from him and turned off the TV, throwing the remote away to the other side of the room. "You need to leave and you need to do it, right now."

Emily appeared behind her, pulling on her tshirt. "Hi Doctor," she said.

"Hi, Bitey," he said, not acknowledging her.

"Her name is Emily. Em-i-ly. Not Bitey or visitor, Emily. She is here with me and you need to leave. Now!" Clara said sternly. Clara pointed out of the door.

"It's OK," said Emily, touching Clara on the arm. "It really doesn't bother me-"

"It bothers me," said Clara. "And take the TARDIS out of my bedroom. I do not want it there like it's watching me," she shouted.

"What's the TARDIS?" asked Emily.

"The blue box thing," said Clara.

"Oh right," Emily nodded.

"Clara-" the Doctor said.

"Don't Clara me, I said give me 24 hours. I am trying to have some sort of interaction, actual human interaction... I don't quite know what sort yet... but nonetheless..." she said loudly, pausing for breath, "I have brought someone, umm, Emily home, with the intention of spending an evening, just one evening, alone with her, hopefully having a large amount of uninterrupted, amazing, sex wherever I please in my own flat." She paused again, before saying slowly. "Is that so much to ask?"


	23. Chapter 23

A silence hung in the air.

Emily looked at Clara, confused. She went to speak but then stopped herself, instead smiling and folding her arms tightly, leaning up against the door frame.

"Clara- I'm-" the Doctor started, standing up, looking over at her.

"Doctor, I need you to go," she said, turning away to face Emily. "Please." The look going between them was almost intense enough to filter out anything else, despite standing ten feet apart.

"I didn't mean to-" he said softly.

"I know, I know," she said, calmer, "but if you didn't need to leave before you absolutely one hundred percent need to now."

The Doctor walked towards Clara and looked at her, then at Emily and then back to Clara.

"What is going on with your eyes?" he said, pointing at Clara. "And why are your eyes doing the same?" he pointed at Emily. "Are your eyes being reflected in hers?"

"No, they are not," said Clara, impatiently."You need to go." Emily's look was something she hadn't seen before, it was a mixture of curiosity, desire, impatience and something unpredictable.

"So hang on, why is Bitey doing it too?"

"Doing what?" said Emily.

"Activating," said the Doctor. "Like eyes squared. Or square eyes? No wait, thats what you get when you watch too much TV isn't it? Why are her eyes doing the same as yours?" He backed away as they both looked at him.

"Why do you think?" said Emily, unusually pointedly. "Would you like me to translate?" she said sarcastically.

"Challenge accepted!" he chuckled to himself. "No, I'm ok I can eye read," he said smugly drawing level with Emily. "Ok, wow, ok, very powerful message, do you have tourettes?" he turned to Clara, "I didn't want to bring it up but, she does have a very curious and noninfrequent use of expletives, doesn't she?"

"Fuck off," Emily said, mischievously. "Fuck you and fuck me."

"Ahhh yes," said the Doctor, "there it is. I'm not sure I can translate the rest, maybe I need to get my flags out..." he patted himself down.

"No, I'm translating," said Emily. "Fuck... off." She smirked at him. Emily looked back at her, "fuck you and fuck me, right now."

Clara laughed once to herself, smiling at Emily behind the Doctor's back. "I managed to get that, but thank you away."

"How did you manage to do that without the flags?" the Doctor looked at her suspiciously. "Have you been taking lessons, Clara? How very... curious," said the Doctor, backing away. "I'm not sure I'm prepared for a four eye activation. Two is bad enough... Are you two trying to out eye each other? Are you having an eye off? If you are my money is on Clara, Bitey, sorry..." he creased his face.

"So leave then," Clara said, impatiently. "You already know my thoughts on the subject."

"And mine," said Emily. "But if you're not going to listen..." she paced up to Clara and stood in front of her. "You know, you are so fucking sexy when you get angry."

Clara was caught off guard as Emily quickly leaned in to kiss her, but found herself responding. It made all of the surroundings melt away into a large blur. She was vaguely aware of the Doctor prowling around beside them but decided to ignore him.

"Must you two always insist on doing that? There are other ways to communicate than eating each other's faces..." he said loudly whilst turning away.

Clara pushed Emily back towards the hallway, leaving the Doctor in the living room. They edged past the half open door of the bedroom as Clara slammed it shut behind her.

There was a loud knock.

"How am I supposed to leave if you've shut yourselves in there? Basic physics, I can't walk through doors or walls," he shouted from the other side. "I wish I could, would seriously improve my CV!"

Clara opened the door not breaking away from the kiss, using her hands to pull Emily's body into hers and walk her towards the nearest wall, unzipping her shirt and taking it off quickly, throwing it onto the bed on her right before helping Emily to remove her tshirt again. Clara felt a bomb could go off next to them and they wouldn't notice, the attraction was that powerful.

"Don't mind me, I'm just leaving," the Doctor said vaguely in the background.

Emily held onto her waist tightly as Clara forced her weight towards her. They stayed like this for what felt like an age, until Clara gently disposed of Emily's bra with one hand, unable to resist a small smile into the next kiss. Emily bit onto Clara's bottom lip hard as she undid her trousers quickly.

"I said... I'm leaving," the Doctor said, louder.. "Bye!"

Clara and Emily had found their way to the bed, with Emily on top pinning Clara down, still without breaking the kiss.

There was a loud door slam and a loud whoosh of air that travelled around the room. Clara laughed to herself, realising he'd left, eventually. Emily continued with what she was doing.

Clara pulled away to look at Emily on top of her, smiling. Her nerves were resurfacing.

"How much of that do you think he saw?" Clara laughed.

"I really don't give a fuck," said Emily, distracted, in between kissing down her neck softly. "I want to kiss you and have, and I quote," she did a very bad generic northern accent, "a large amount t'ut uninterrupted, amazing, sex."

"Firstly I don't speak like that, so shut up," said Clara, feigning being offended, "and secondly if you are going to impersonate me at least do me the courtesy of the right county, I'm not from Emmerdale, thanks."

"For fuck's sake," breathed Emily in a half laugh, moving down Clara's body. "Can you please stop, I'm trying to concentrate on our... interaction here..."

"I can't help it," Clara said, laughing as Emily removed her boots and the rest of her clothes. "I'm surprisingly nervous right now. Have been since we got in. When I get nervous I talk," sighed Clara, "really should get that fixed."

"Why are you nervous?" said Emily, stopping what she was doing. "We have done this enough times already," she laughed. "What's the matter?"

"You're here in my house, alone with me... finally... and... that, " she paused. "That... for some reason makes me nervous. That and it's been three days, I'm worried I might have forgotten what to do," she joked.

"It's ok, you know," Emily said, rolling off her, leaning towards Clara, smiling, "I get it."

"You do?" Clara raised an eyebrow, sitting up on her elbows.

"Intense isn't it?" Emily said.

"Yes," said Clara, "very. On the level I'm refusing adventures around the whole of time and space to have sex with you."

Emily laughed. "Fucking hell, I'm not sure I'll ever get that compliment again. Quite the endorsement," she smiled back. "You may put that on my end of term report card."

"Half term is coming up..." Clara mused.

"For the record, is that because the sex is that good or because you want to avoid the weird pervy old man?"

"The latter, definitely," Clara said, sarcastically.

"Oi," Emily said, pushing her playfully, "do you fucking mind?!" Emily laughed lying back on the bed next to her, both looking up at the ceiling. "He had a decent look at what was happening..."

"I don't think we gave him a choice," laughed Clara.

"He's probably just jealous," said Emily, her hand finding Clara's next to her.

"Why does everyone think he's jealous?"

"Oh come on," said Emily, "he loves you."

"He really doesn't, it's just him being him..." Clara sighed and shook her head, "no, I am not doing this, in my bed, with you."

"Ok then," said Emily. "So what exactly are you doing?" Emily smirked, "whatever it is you need to start doing it."

"I don't know-" Clara started, Emily put a finger on her lips.

"Stop," Emily demanded. "No."

"What?" said Clara muffled.

"No, don't say anything else," said Emily, looking away.

"Ok..." said Clara, a little confused as Emily removed her finger off her lips.

After a minute Emily looked back at her, softening. "We are wasting time, Miss-"

"Don't you dare," Clara narrowed her eyes, twinkling.

"-Oswald," Emily said slowly, teasing her, smirking. Emily bit her lip slightly as she stole a glance at Clara's cleavage.

"Shut up," said Clara, shaking her head. She looked down at Emily's lips and then back to her eyes, allowing herself a small smile.

"Make me," Emily dared her. "I will do it again-"

Clara went to kiss her roughly, taking control, straddling Emily on the bed. A few minutes later, once all their clothing had been removed, Clara's nervousness was replaced by an insatiable flow of adrenaline, as if some sort of fire had been lit in the pit of her stomach.

...

Clara woke up at 4am, she didn't remember falling asleep, but it hadn't been for very long, she knew that much. She raised a small smile extending her arm out for Emily realising she wasn't there. Clara rubbed her eyes and noticed a light on in the hallway.

"Emily?" Clara said, sitting up. She pulled on her dressing gown and went out.

Emily was stood out on the balcony smoking. On the coffee table was a bottle of vodka that Clara recognised as something that had been buried deep in one of her kitchen cupboards and a small tumbler glass with an inch of liquid in. The bottle was two thirds full, there were a tissues next to the box and Emily's phone lying next to it. These signs did not look good.

Clara ventured towards the window door, pausing before going outside. Emily was dressed in just her own white tshirt and Clara's jogging bottoms, hanging over the rail blowing smoke out slowly. She opened the door, immediately hit by an icy blast of air, closing it subconsciously.

Emily turned around in shock at the noise as Clara reopened the took a large drag of her cigarette and turned back round before exhaling.

"What are you doing? And it is freezing!" Clara said cautiously, only able to open the door an inch.

Emily raised a small smile and turned her head to the side, it was quite obvious she'd been crying. She finished off her cigarette and threw it over the side of the balcony, opening the door to enter the living room.


	24. Chapter 24

"Seriously, if you are trying to freeze to death, you are really going the right way about it," joked Clara as Emily walked in, "and I'd really prefer it if you didn't, I'm not sure that the Doctor would help me move another lifeless body away after the last time..." She tilted her head looking away. "There'd probably be questions about what had happened, an awkward uncomfortable conversation between us, he'd ask if we had actually used the scissors on each other-"

"Scissors?" Emily looked momentarily confused.

"Lewis told the Doctor we use scissors-"

"Oh, right." Emily laughed lightly before sitting back down, turning to watch the TV. The news was on.

"He confused the noun with the verb and..." she trailed off, realising Emily wasn't listening. "Come back to bed," Clara said, "I still have an hour before I need to get up... and it's warm?" she offered, tightening her dressing gown around herself.

Emily shook her head, picking up the glass and drinking the half inch of liquid. She sat up to pour another two inches of vodka and took a large gulp before leaning back, holding the glass on her left leg, she massaged between her eyes with her right hand.

"I see you found my secret stash?" said Clara, smiling.

"Yeah," said Emily . "It wasn't hidden very well."

"Really?" said Clara, folding her arms, knowing this to be a lie.

"First cupboard I looked in," Emily said.

"I'm sure it was," Clara said sarcastically. She sat down on the sofa next to Emily and turned to her left. Emily had a small tear forming in the corner of her right eye. Clara wasn't sure how to proceed until Emily broke the silence.

"Probably best not to go into the kitchen," said Emily.

"Why?" Clara asked before backtracking, "not that it matters, of course. You're welcome to my post Year 10 emergency vodka," she sighed. "I don't have them tomorrow." She reached out her hand towards Emily's right leg gently.

"After I finished the wine I wanted something stronger," said Emily.

"How much wine have you had?" asked Clara.

Emily paused before answering. "Enough."

"Ok..." Clara said, hoping she hadn't had all of the wine she owned. She was beginning to feel like she was going to need a bottle to herself later. "Am I allowed to ask what's wrong?" Clara said, cautiously.

"Yes," Emily said shortly, not offering any further explanation.

"So, what's the matter?"

"I couldn't sleep," said Emily, taking another large gulp of vodka.

"That... that I can see," said Clara. "You've had almost half the bottle," she pointed towards the vodka.

"Yes," said Emily, unscrewing the lid and pouring out another measure. She held out the bottle to Clara.

"No, I'm OK, thank you, I'm working and I have to ride-"

"Suit yourself," said Emily. She swirled the vodka around the glass, looking down at it. The small tear was beginning to run down her cheek. Emily picked up a tissue and dabbed it away, staring at the ceiling.

"Why are you crying?" Clara said, concerned, still unsure what to do, "... have I done something to upset you?"

"Oh god, no, you haven't," Emily faced her and smiled painfully, putting her right hand still holding the tissue on Clara's hand. She lowered her head down, put the glass down on the coffee table and sobbed quietly.

"Hey, hey, come here," said Clara, pulling Emily towards her for a tight hug. She held Emily's head against her right shoulder as she cried. "Shh... It's OK," she said, stroking Emily's hair. She was reminded of the time when Nina had come over after she'd found out Dale, her creep of an ex-boyfriend, had been stringing another two women along as well. This coming from someone she was sleeping with was unchartered territory. She waited a few minutes saying nothing before Emily spoke.

"I'm sorry," Emily said into her shoulder, not moving, holding onto Clara tightly. "It's just..." she started sobbing again.

"Honestly, it's OK," Clara said, patiently.

"I'm such a mess," Emily said after a short time, moving away, getting another tissue from the box and drying her tears.

"No, you're not, come on. What's upset you?" said Clara, lowering her head to look into Emily's eyes, putting a hand on her arm.

"It... it's just... I know it's been almost three years..." she sniffed, "but... sometimes it feels like yesterday."

"Oh, is this what this is about?" Clara said, instantly realising. Emily hadn't mentioned this since the first day they'd met.

"Yeah," said Emily, wiping a tear from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She took another sip of vodka.

"You really don't have to explain to me," said Clara.

"I can't control when it hits," Emily said, blowing her nose into the tissue. "Just ignore me. Maybe I should go home."

"Are you joking? It's 4am, freezing and you're south of the river, no way in hell are you going home on your own," Clara stated. "I'm leaving for work in a couple of hours, I'll drop you back if you want to go."

"You don't want to see me like this," Emily put her head in her hands.

"Don't be stupid," Clara paused. "My mum died almost eleven years ago and there is not a day that I don't think about her, and then Danny..." she paused. "You know, he got run over as I told him he was going to be the last person I was ever going to say 'I love you' to. I was stood right there in front of that bookcase," she pointed. "I had all these post it notes around of all the things I wanted to say to him, that I'd lied to him that I had stopped travelling with the Doctor." Clara could feel herself welling up, but stopped short of crying, "and then there was nothing, "and then some woman came on the phone and apologised to me. I remember it as clear as the day it happened, 'the car, it just came out of nowhere... I'm so sorry'."

"I fell asleep in Naomi's hospital room," Emily replied quickly. "I stayed with her for a week, watching her, I fall asleep for half a fucking hour and she just died. We hardly even spoke because I was so angry with her. I still am angry at her," she said directly.

"I threw all of the keys to the blue box into a volcano after Danny died, trying to get the Doctor to go back in time and help me save him," Clara said. "At least I thought I did, I was actually dreaming that I did it. He was not happy."

"But you cope with it so well, look at you, beautiful, nice flat on your own, a decent job, a friend who can whisk you away to some fantasy world at a moment's notice..." Emily trailed off. "I don't see you breaking down, and drinking, you seem to be so... in control."

"Oh, no, that's called distraction," said Clara.

"What, you distract people from seeing you crying?" Emily laughed weakly, "is that why you're friends with a magician?"

"No no," she smiled, "I tried to stop him dressing like that but he won't listen, wait until he rolls out the polka dot shirt. No I mean, I did cry, a lot, but I distract myself. I travel with the Doctor to take my mind off things."

"So do I," Emily topped up her glass with more vodka. "Usually with alcohol, or pills. Or both. I have days that I've lost. Could have been doing anything."

"I tried to save him, by going back in time. Didn't quite work out," said Clara.

"What happened?" asked Emily, setting down the full glass of vodka. "We may as well get all of this out of the way now. Distract me with a story."

Clara shifted awkwardly. "I doubt you'll believe it."

"Try me, I have had some fucked up stuff happen," Emily sighed.

"So..." Clara paused, "after he died we went to this mausoleum where his body was. Somehow he ended up downloaded into the thing called the Nethersphere, and then his body ended up inside a cyberman-"

"A cyberman?" said Emily, "what?" she laughed, incredulously. "He got turned into a robot? What the fuck?" she sniggered. "You have got to be shitting me."

"No, I am not... shitting you," Clara said, uncharacteristically swearing.

"Ok, so cyborg boyfriend, cool-"

"Cyberman. They convert bodies into robots, and they are not nice. Almost killed those two kids I looked after," Clara said.

"I can see why you left nannying to become a teacher," Emily observed.

"So remember when it rained on the graveyards?" said Clara.

"I still don't remember that," Emily said.

"Well, it rained on all the graveyards, St Paul's roof opened all the dead people turned into... cyborgs. And Danny was one of them."

"So what happened?" Emily said.

"I stood there looking at him, covered in metal, unable to fix it. I turned him off," she could feel her eyes moistening, she dabbed a finger in the corner of her eye to mop up the tear.

"Turned him off?" Emily said, confused.

"Oh, there was this chip in his chest, I switched off his emotions, or switched on the inhibitor, depending on how you look at it. He took control of the cyborg army the Doctor's mortal enemy had created and flew off into the sky." Clara smiled to herself.

"It sounds like a science fiction story," laughed Emily. "What happened next? He teleport back or something?" she sniggered.

"What? How do you know about that?" she looked at Emily, confused.

"Fuck off, no fucking way," Emily creased her eyes. "That did not fucking happen."

"It did. Sort of," Clara said. "Except it wasn't him that came back."

"It wasn't?" said Emily, her look was more curious. Like her Year 7s when they learnt about something new.

"Nope, turns out when Danny was in the army he accidentally killed a young boy in Afghanistan years back. He sent him through instead," Clara looked away.

"Let me guess, only enough power for one trip or something?" Emily mused.

"I think you've been watching too many films," Clara sighed. "Naturally, yes. I was so angry at him. Typical fucking teacher, putting the kids before him, again."

"What did you do with the boy?" Emily said, "did the Doctor take him back?"

"He was nowhere to be seen for weeks," she shook her head, "I took him to the local police station."

"Sensible," Emily replied.

"I didn't hear anything else," Clara said.

"Your life is so... fantastical. No wonder you have no trouble escaping," said Emily.

"It's hardly escaping, like I said, distraction, you can never... escape," Clara said, smiling.

"Even you telling me this story is helping to distract me. You are... I still don't know whether you are fascinating or completely mental. Part of me still thinks this is a complete load of shit. Part of me wants you to sit and tell me stories all day."

"I met her, you know."

"Met who?" Emily asked.

"The woman who turned Danny into the... robot," Clara said.

"When?"

"About six or seven months ago, you remember that day you were having that barbeque when all the planes stopped," Clara said.

"I go to a lot of barbeques, but yes, vaguely," she joked, smiling softly.

"That was her, I hate her. So much."

"How much? How angry are we talking?" Emily asked. "Just for research purposes."

"Before or... after she tied me up and dangled me from a rock in a desert on Skaro, threatened to turn me into a midday snack with a pointy stick, threw me down a 20ft hole, handcuffed me to a security camera, put me inside a Dalek and then almost got the Doctor to shoot me?"

"I only picked up the words tied up and handcuffed in that lot," Emily laughed. "But definitely after. And what's a Dar...Lik?"

Clara considered her answer. "One, calm yourself down, it wasn't like that, two on a scale of one to ten, about fifteen and three, a space robot on wheels with what looks like a plunger on the front."

"Plunger, sounds scary. I can't even comprehend what 15 looks like," she smiled.

"On that day," Clara thought, "green dress, grey jumper, boots and my leather jacket. And angry," Clara joked.

"And I bet you looked hot," Emily laughed.

"Not going to lie," said Clara, "probably, yes." She looked at Emily and smiled.

"You know," Emily said, looking out of the window to see dawn breaking, "you've done an excellent job at distracting me, as you have done very successfully for the last two weeks. I'm sorry for having an off moment. So thank you."

"You are welcome, I really don't mind," Clara said. She heard the alarm on her phone coming from the other room, groaning. "And apparently it's now time for me to get up. Excuse me."

She padded to the bedroom to turn off the noise, it was 5.30am. She had half an hour before she needed to get ready. She rubbed her eyes and groaned to herself.

"Can I get you a coffee?" Clara said loudly, walking to the kitchen.

"Yes..." said Emily, before saying, "...shit, no! I don't want a coffee," as she emerged into the hallway, holding the vodka and the glass. "Don't go in there..."

Clara opened the door into the kitchen to find two empty bottles of wine on the table, upended, the contents of every cupboard had been emptied onto the sides and the floor in the hunt for her hidden bottle of vodka. It looked like the room had been ransacked.

"What the hell have you done in here?" Clara said quietly.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Emily said behind her. "I knew you were hiding some hard alcohol somewhere."

"It's ok, it was obviously the drink that drove you to it," Clara said. "I am going to have a shower, I don't care what you do," she cast her hand around, "sort this out... and then make me a black coffee... OK?"

"Ok," Emily said. Clara put an arm gently around Emily's waist as she went past as she slunk back into the bathroom.

Clara reappeared into the hallway. "And if it's even remotely like that dishwater Lewis gave me the other morning, I will slap you. That is a promise, not a threat." She pointed at Emily and then at her eyes and back again. "I will be giving you feedback afterwards."

Emily laughed as she closed the bathroom door.

Clara looked in the mirror and cradled her head in her hands, yawning. Today was going to be a long day.

She emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later wearing a towel to see her kitchen returned to normal and Emily smoking on the balcony again. There was a coffee on the table in the hallway waiting for her. She picked it up and sipped it, almost taken aback by how strong it was. It was exactly what she needed.

Emily came back in, holding another coffee, it was light outside now.

"That coffee is excellent, thank you. You may stay again. So are you coming with me to work? I'll drop you off at home if you are ready in time," she took her coffee to the bedroom. "Are you at uni today? Please tell me you're not."

"I'm off today, but I am working tonight."

"Are you going to be ok?" Clara said as she towel dried her hair.

"Yeah," said Emily, sipping at the drink and wincing. She smiled over at Clara, looking her up and down.

"Get ready then or I will leave you here," Clara threatened playfully.

"I'm sorry about earlier..." said Emily.

"I told you, it's fine," said Clara, putting off turning the hairdryer on.

"It's just... you're the first-" Emily started.

"I really don't think this is a conversation we should have right now," said Clara, looking away.

"I know but..." Emily trailed off.

"Look, it's been a long night and I need to go to work, so get ready," said Clara, turning on the hairdryer, effectively silencing the conversation.

She dried her hair for a few seconds as Emily looked at her, trying to think what to say.

"Next time," said Clara, turning off the noise, "we can go for dinner and discuss what we need to, OK?"

"Deal," said Emily smiling.

"And then maybe we can do that thing-" Clara smirked, drying her hair again.

Emily raised an eyebrow and turned her head slightly, folding her arms, half smiling back at her.

They left just after 7am, after a long, lingering kiss against the front door which forced Clara to remove and reapply her lipstick afterwards. Clara drove them to Whitechapel on her bike, and arrived outside Emily's flat at 7.45am as the traffic was particularly bad.

"Your driving was much better this time," said Emily, getting off the back of Clara's bike, removing the helmet.

"I'm surprisingly not as desperate to get to work as I was to get you inside yesterday," Clara said blankly.

"Cheeky," said Emily, smiling back at her, pushing her.

"So, when am I going to see you next?" said Clara, stepping off her bike and taking off her helmet and setting it on the seat. She pulled the front of Emily's jacket towards her slightly.

"I have a couple of things to do this weekend, but I should be able to," she cleared her throat, "fit you in at some point," she joked badly.

"I hope so," Clara said as she put a hand around Emily's waist and kissed her gently on the cheek. "I really need to go or I will be late for work. Message me, OK?"

Emily nodded as she moved away, kissing Clara quickly on the lips before taking a look back and disappearing inside the front door.

...

Emily had applied for the twelve week funded semester exchange programme in Chicago on the advice of her tutor a few months ago, not expecting to hear anything back from it. When she read the email saying she'd got one of the places on Friday morning she was lying in bed, having not checked the inbox on her uni account for about a week. She sat up, surprised and gasped in shock, smiling to herself. About fifteen minutes later her tutor had rung to congratulate her and advised her that they'd brought the flights forward to this weekend to allow for a half week of orientation.

The flight was scheduled for 8am Sunday morning, giving her absolutely no fucking time at all to organise her life. She had to call her work, sort out her rent. She called her parents and texted Katie to let them know. She read all the communication about the placement and mentally planned what she needed to take with her. Twelve weeks on 48 hours notice! Honestly.

She messaged Clara in the afternoon as she was getting ready for work, knowing this was going to throw their plans out for the weekend.

: Just found out some amazing news, going to Chicago for 12 weeks on an exchange programme x

Emily put her phone on the side as she got dressed. A reply came a few minutes later.

: Oh my god! You didn't tell me about that, well done! When do you go?

: I forgot I applied for it. I leave on Sunday

: Sunday? That quick?

: Yeah, no fucking notice at all. Typical Met.

: Will I get to see you before you go?

: Probably not, working tonight and then got to get my shit together. Flying at 8am on Sunday.

: Shame... That's quick.

: Yeah.

: Really really good news though, very pleased for you.

: Thank you.

: I need to go, have a large amount of unruly children to supervise. I will speak to you later. Well done :-)

She left for work that evening, finding it going painfully slowly, no word from Clara since her last text.

Emily spent the entire duration of the next day thinking about Clara, unable to push her from inside her head as she made arrangements to leave for Chicago. She had initially been a good distraction from all the fucked up stuff going on at home with Katie and her dick of a boyfriend totalling her bike, and her parents being practically on the verge of divorce. Again. Clara had intrigued her as she had sounded completely mental, set against the fact she looked completely... well... normal.

She hadn't replied to any of her texts since Friday afternoon. Was she upset? Or not talking to her? She tried to concentrate on getting all her things together for the trip.

Emily arrived at Heathrow Terminal 5 early on Sunday morning with two other people from her course. They excitedly chattered through the check-in and security gates and boarded the plane to Chicago. She was nervous, and just a little bit excited as the plane took off.

...

Emily unlocked the door to her dormitory room to find the lights already on. She walked in cautiously, until she saw Clara stood in her room by the window, wearing the same black leather jacket she'd last seen her in. What the fuck was happening? How was she here? Right here in her room waiting for her? How had she even got in?

"What the fuck-" Emily said loudly, reacting to seeing her unexpectedly. She laughed out loud.

"You know," said Clara, looking out of the window, replacing the curtain, turning around to look at her. "I don't think we finished our conversation earlier."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" said Emily, immediately feeling a wave of shock travel through her body. "How is this even possible?"

"I kind of... borrowed a time machine," Clara smiled at her. "As you do."

"So you just thought you'd turn up in my room?" said Emily. "When I haven't heard a single thing from you..." Emily paused, "for the past two weeks?"


End file.
